#I don’t reach out as often as I used to

[aholefilledwithtwigs]

I have a very specific example of where this comes into play— testing for prostate cancer

If you have a prostate you are recommended to get screened for prostate cancer once you reach a certain age. The most common way to check for prostate cancer is measuring PSA levels

If you have an estrogen dominant endocrine system then PSAs are NOT a reliable marker for prostate cancer

So if you have a prostate and estrogen dominant system you need to screen using other methods. It has nothing to do with assigned gender, it is what anatomy you have, how that anatomy responds to hormones, and what hormones are present.

And unfortunately you often need to remind doctors of this, in addition to the vast majority of medical testing and studies only focusing on individuals with ‘expected’ genders

Most studies dealing with disease and medicine intentionally exclude intersex and trans people. So when you try to find out how being on HRT or being intersex impacts treatment the studies just don’t exist. No one is paying for the research

Actually no, people outside the ‘gender norm’ are paying for the research with their health

really not sure when it happened or why but personally I'm pissed that the queer community at large seems to have given up ground on the "people with penises/vulvas/testes/ovaries" language to sex & gender essentialists in exchange for the much less precise, much more demeaning "AGAB" language.

is it because you're scared of the word vulva? of acknowledging out loud that some people have penises? of recognising that many many people, including but certainly not limited to trans people, have mixed sex characteristics that cannot be accurately summarised by "afab/amab" as shorthand for "female/male"?

"in [GENITAL RELATED] situation AFABs will need to do X and AMABs will need to do Y" there are "afabs" with penises and "amabs" with vulvas. Saying this shit makes you look so unserious & honestly transphobic (given the ongoing erasure of post-op trans people within broader community). Intersex people and GRS have both existed for long enough (fucking forever and, decades, respectively) that we should well past making this basic fucking mistake.

quit referring to people by a vague & often violent event that happened at their birth as though it defines ANYTHING about how they & their body currently operate, and start using precise language so you at least look like you know what you're fucking talking about.

[xoxochb]

I desperately need a blurb of sweet girl having a sleepy moment of weakness and being sweet and gentle with percy, and like i’m torn between percy teasing her for it or silently basking in it since its a once in a lifetime opportunity for sweet girl to be this docile- mars

those rare moments when ‘sweet girl’ isn’t a contradicting pet name LOL

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

your half-lidded eyes blink repeatedly to remain open. your finger idly traces just barely, delicately, over percy’s features.

you reach out to touch his pretty green eyes but much to your dismay they close the moment your finger is deemed too close. you frown and whine in your sleepy state. you pull your finger away and his eyes open back up, hooray! a faint smile graces your feature.

you trail your finger downwards with a bite of your bottom lip. you hum as your index reaches percy’s own lips, taking your middle and ring and tracking them over the expanse of his mouth.

his teeth reach out to nip at your fingertips before taking your wrist and placing a delicate kiss to each of them before your palm and your wrist and the back of your hand.

you giggle faintly, releasing your arm from percy’s hold and using it to drape lazily around his shoulders, tugging him almost forcefully (or with as much force as someone edging on sleep can), flush into you.

you splay your hands on his back, nuzzling your face into his hair atop his head. “I love you.”

percy mirrors your position, sprawling his own hands on your waist though, head tucked tightly beneath your chin. he places a peck to the hollow of your throat. “I love you too, sweet girl.”

you kiss the top of his head with much tenderness before placing your hand on his cheek and forcing him to look up at you.

but you don’t necessarily need to ask him twice, the moment his head perks up his eyes bore into yours. you trace the pad of your thumb just below his eye, not touching so his eyelids won’t cover the deepest portions of the sea, but enough so you can keep them open to admire.

“my favorite color,” you murmur, practically almost inaudible. “green.”

his lips turn into a gentle smile. you tuck his head back into your chest and slide downwards in a more comfortable position to sleep. your arms return to their prior spot.

it’s not often that you take on such delicacy as now. on most occasions percy is sure you make it your life goal to have him bullied by you 24/7. but in moments like this, when you fell into a unbearably sleepy state you were oh-so benign with him.

and as much as he wishes to taunt and tease you for this, there was no denying that he enjoyed it— and if there was a word to most strongly describe enjoyment that is how he feels.

while he is aware you love him regardless if you’re scolding him, hitting him, yelling at him, crying, engaging in hours of love-making— when you are serene like this is when you most show it through your diligent actions, treating him like porcelain.

with one hand, percy reaches upwards and places his palm over your heart, feeling the calming beats. he removes his hand before placing his lips over it twice.

“hm. my sweet girl.”

[daydreamabout]

Over the Radio [Tim Bradford Imagine]

Summary: It is the usual teasing between Tim and you, except for the fact that the others can hear you.

It was another usual day at the LAPD precinct. Tim Bradford sat at his desk, his brows furrowed as he studied a case file. The office buzzed with the low hum of activity—officers coming and going, papers shuffling, phones ringing. But for Tim, it was all white noise. He was focused, determined, and as always, his serious demeanor made him stand out from the others.

Across the room, Y/N sat with a cup of coffee, her feet kicked up on the edge of her desk. She was the opposite of Tim—soft-spoken, quirky, and often surprising people with her sharp wit. The two of them had been partners for a while now, and while they kept things strictly professional on the surface, there was an undeniable connection between them. One that neither of them had been willing to fully acknowledge, at least not out loud.

"Tim," Y/N called, her voice light and teasing. "You ever consider cracking a smile? I mean, I'm pretty sure it’s still in there somewhere."

He didn’t even look up, instead huffed in that way he always did when she pushed his buttons. "I’ll smile when you stop talking."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her chair. "Ah, so it’s my fault you're perpetually grumpy, huh?"

"You know I don't have time for small talk," Tim replied, still buried in paperwork.

She smirked. "Right. Small talk. That’s totally it."

The radio buzzed suddenly, interrupting their banter. "Unit 57, we’ve got a 10-31 in progress at 5th and Meryl. Need backup. Over."

Y/N grabbed the mic without hesitation. "Unit 57 here, we're on it. Tim, you ready for some action?" Her voice was light and easy, the same tone she used to tease him.

Tim’s response was clipped as usual. "Always."

As they headed out to the car, their usual routine fell into place. Y/N hopped into the passenger seat, and Tim slid into the driver’s side, his focus instantly shifting to the road ahead. He wasn’t much of a talker while driving, but Y/N, ever the one to fill the silence, couldn’t resist a little playful commentary.

"You ever think about how weird it is we’re partners? I mean, I’m all sunshine and sarcasm, and you’re… well, you." She paused, glancing at him. "A grumpy, well-dressed tornado of intensity."

Tim’s lips twitched. "I’m not grumpy."

She shot him a look, her playful smile never fading. "Uh-huh. And I’m totally not secretly a sarcastic genius."

He let out a small sigh, trying to suppress the amusement that was fighting its way through. "Sure, whatever."

As they reached their destination, Tim parked the car, still holding onto his usual stoic expression. But as they prepared to exit, Y/N couldn’t resist one more jab.

"You know, if I were a betting woman," she said, as he adjusted his gear, "I’d say you’ve got a soft spot for me under that tough-guy exterior."

Tim shot her a look that was half-impressed, half-exasperated. "You’re delusional."

Just as they were getting ready to move, the radio crackled loudly, startling them both. But something was off—the sound was far too clear and continuous, like the mic was stuck on.

"Unit 57, you two getting cozy in there or what?" Angela’s voice came through the radio, her tone amused but sharp. "Because from where I’m sitting, it sounds like a whole lot of flirting going on over the radio."

Tim’s eyes widened in mild panic, his face turning a shade of red that was rare for him. "What the hell?" he muttered under his breath, quickly reaching to adjust the mic, but Y/N was faster. "Uh, I think... I think the mic’s stuck," she whispered, her voice laced with a mix of disbelief and amusement. She tried pushing the button to no avail. Angela’s laughter crackled through the speaker again. "Yeah, it sounds like you two have a lot to discuss on the airwaves. Maybe I should be worried, huh?"

"Nah, we’re just discussing the fine art of sarcasm, Angela. Don’t you worry your little head,"Tim spoke up.

Angela’s laughter echoed over the radio. "Uh-huh, sure. Just make sure that fine art doesn't get you two in trouble when we’re out on the field. Keep it professional, lovebirds."

Tim gritted his teeth, but Y/N couldn’t help herself—she leaned over and whispered, her voice low but teasing, "I think we’ve officially been outed."

Tim shot her a look, his usual seriousness battling with the growing warmth creeping up his neck. "This isn't funny."

Y/N leaned back in her seat, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, I think it’s hilarious."

The radio crackled again, this time Angela’s voice dripping with mock sweetness. "Seriously, though, Tim, you better be careful. I can hear the smile in your voice, and we both know that’s a dangerous thing."

Y/N snickered, and Tim tried his best to hide the slight grin threatening to break through his mask of composure. But despite himself, he couldn’t help it.

"Just focus on the case, Angela," he said, his voice still sharp but with a hint of amusement that hadn’t been there before. He glanced at Y/N, who was grinning like she’d just won a small victory. "You too, Y/N. Keep it together."

But Y/N just shrugged, the glint of playful rebellion still dancing in her eyes. "What can I say? I’m just making sure the day stays interesting."

As they headed toward the scene, the tension between them remained palpable, but now there was a new, unspoken understanding hanging in the air—one that neither of them was ready to acknowledge out loud. Yet.

[trendywaifus]

idk if it’s bc I have iron deficiency but I really wanna suck some tits (esp Jane’s 🤤🤤🤤) rn, it’s the only way that can satiate my hunger

LET ME SUCK SOME TIDDIES OR ELSE I’LL DIE… DONT LET ME DIE 😭😭😭😭😭😭

im anemic asf so she’s exactly what I need too. I don’t want no one else’s tits but jane’s to suck on! LET US PLEASEE. yes i wrote a drabble about sucking jane’s titties. ik y’all r starving for a crumb of content so take this while I finish my drafts! cw: fem!reader. yay girl on girl action.

“ can i? “ you ask against her addicting lips, voice falling under a cute plea which made jane smirk coyly. a prolonged hum crawls up her throat while she pretends to think for several dragging moments. impatient hands slip under her white, over-sized t-shirt that was previously tastefully ridden up her inner thighs, showing a glimpse of black panties as she’s comfortably stretched out on the bed with only the upper half of your body over hers. the end of her tail lazily drag up your spine through your shirt, pulling a forced shiver from you. eager palms explore the milky canvas of her toned stomach.

you caught onto the idea that she’s purposely stalling and gently trapped her bottom lip between your teeth then tugged it free. “ jane. .”

“ hehe, “ she titters, putting a hand on the nape of your neck. “ sorry, sorry sweet girl. knock yourself out. “

you grumble but still seek for her soft lips a few more times, not getting enough of the taste of bubblegum candy she snacked on earlier. after a few moments, you depart away with a satisfying smack and boldly pulled up her shirt just over her plump tits. “ so pretty. “ you awed under your breath, mouth near salivating at the sight below you. picking up your compliment, your rat thiren’s ears flicker with satisfaction and a hint of proudness.

after lowering yourself downward to her chest, you waste no time to attach your mouth to her soft nipple and suckle. almost immediately, a cute noise audibly slips out from her throat. slightly tilting her head to the side to get decent view of the tv, she seemingly returns her attention back to the screen, ignoring that hot mouth of yours. jane’s hand rest on the back of your neck, occasionally rubbing at it and idly playing with baby hairs.

your tongue flick and swirl around the hardening bud before suckling again, this time harder. “ huh. .” a low, breathy sound resembling to a moan squeezes out of jane’s chest. a swell of hotness whirls within you from her small little reactions. your right hand supports the underside of the right breast and gently squeezed the supple fat. saliva builds up in your mouth and dribbles out like drool as you tug at the swelling bud with your teeth. then with both hands, you cup jane’s breasts together and attach your shimmery lips over to the neglected bud. “. . .shit, now you’ve done it, “ she curses then follows up with a strained laugh, “ can’t even focus on the tv anymore baby. .” diamond shaped pupils flickers down at you and stays glued to your every movement.

your pretty eyes are fluttered closed, the look of bliss adorning your face as you roll the ball of your wet muscle around her areola. the tips of her ears are slightly red, almost matching the same red hue on her creamy cheeks. “i think i want you like this more often. .” she confess softly, pupils visibly dilating as your eyes peel open to connect intimate eye contact with her. jane’s chest starts to rise and fall faster, red nails glide upwards toward your scalp. you offer her a playful smile, lips shining with saliva, thin threads of it connecting to her pink, pearly bud, the color of her cyan hues switches to a glowing red.

“ it’s time to switch things up, pretty thing. “ her tail slips under your shirt and reaches for your bra. skillfully, she unclasps it while bringing your head up to hers for a heady kiss by the firm grip of your hair.

jane’s lips move passionately with yours, hot breaths combining into one as your hips deliciously collide with hers once you’ve successfully slide on top of her. her tongue traces the soft fat of your wet, bottom lip and you quickly caught the wet muscle with your mouth and sucked on it.

your position over her was short lived because within the next moment, you’re flipped on your back with jane rightfully straddling you. she completely removes the loose article of clothing from over her head and carelessly tosses it somewhere on the bed. she runs a quick hand through her silky locks and flirtatiously smiles down at you, pretty teeth baring.

“ now. . .“ jane starts smoothly, delving that same hand down under your shirt and up towards your chest. thanks to undoing your bra earlier, she easily slips under the loose thing and cups your right breast in a teasing manner.

“ can i? “ jane asks mockingly, not hiding the lust brimming in her lowered gaze.

[mommyslittlebird]

Far From a Monster

Wanda x Reader

After a particularly intense session, Wanda has some conflicting feelings about what it means to be your dom.

CW: Dom Drop, Blood, Mommy Kink, Guilt, Sexual Shame

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: As someone is who isn’t a dom very often, I don’t know how accurate a depiction this is of dom drop. This is just what I’ve heard from other people. But I hardly ever see it written about so I wanted to give it a shot.

A/N: I KNOW, I said in the poll it was going to be more stepmom!Wanda next, but that fic is going to take longer than expected. Also in my defense this one was in the lead until almost the very end.

She had you just where she liked you.

You were face down on the bed, a sobbing mess in her hands. You had started on your hands and knees, but had long since collapsed forward. She had her hands drilled into your hips, which was the only thing that kept you up on your knees. She used her grip on you to force you to keep her brutal pace, cruelly dragging you back on to her each time she slammed her hips into you.

“Mommy please! Mommy it’s too much! Please mommy it hurts!” You cried. Your arms were wrapped around a pillow you were pathetically crying into.

“Aww sweetheart,” she cooed with faux sympathy. “You can give me one more, I know you can. Can you do that for mommy?”

You whimpered and squeaked into your pillow, but nodded nonetheless.

She reached down to pet your hair, but inadvertently drove your head further into the pillow. You moaned as her hand gripped your hair. “Oh you like that? Do you like it when mommy hurts you and pulls your hair?”

You nodded, but she pulled harder, pulling you up off the bed a little bit. “Words, princess.”

“Yes mommy! Yes I love it when you hurt me a-and pull my hair!” You cried. “Please mommy, I’m gonna cum again.”

“Is it starting to feel good again, baby? See I told you mommy’s cock wasn’t too big for you. You said it wouldn’t fit, but it’s made you cum, what, three times now?”

“You were right! You were right!” You conceded. “Please let me cum on your cock. Please mommy please.”

“Hmm,” She pretended to consider the request. “Tell mommy about how you're her cockslut and you can cum.”

“Yes mommy, I’m your cockslut. I’m your little toy you can use however you want,” you pleaded. “Fuck I’m gonna cum. Mommy I’m gonna cum for you.”

Your eyes rolled back in your head as you came so hard the strap fell out of you and hit your leg. Wanda smirked, satisfied with herself as you collapsed onto the bed.

Until she looked down.

There was blood.

And not an insignificant amount of it either. She swallowed. It couldn’t have been your period, could it? No you had been on birth control for years and hadn’t had a period since she’d known you. Besides, this was too bright and fresh to be period blood.

“Honey?” She asked, voice shaking slightly. “You don’t have a period anymore do you?”

“Hmm?” You asked, not immediately registering her question in your fuzzy haze. “No. Why?”

You looked down, seeing the blood that covered both your inner thighs and Wanda’s. “Oh. I must’ve torn a little bit. Sorry.”

Her brows knitted in concern. Her heart was racing. It felt like it might beat out of her chest. “I-I’m gonna go get a towel. Stay right here, baby. I’ll be right back.”

You couldn’t tell through your haze how panicked she truly was. You missed the way her voice broke when she spoke. You didn’t see the tears that pricked the corner of her eyes. You didn’t notice the frantic way she scurried into the bathroom. You simply laid on the bed, blissfully nuzzling a pillow.

Wanda closed the bathroom door, taking off the strap and running it under the sink. A cry broke through her lip when she watched the water run red.

How did she not notice you were bleeding? Were you telling her to stop when you said it too much? Did she push you too far? Had you torn at the beginning and just been in pain the whole time? Did you forget your safe word? Fuck did you say the safe word and she just hadn’t heard it? Did she genuinely hurt you? Were you going to be mad at her?

All the worst case scenarios ran through her mind. She felt a monstrous guilt rise up in her chest. She hurt you. She hurt you and she didn’t even realize it.

Why was she like this? Why did she even like to hurt you in the first place? Why did she like it when you cried for her? What kind of monster enjoys hurting the person they love?

“Wanda?” She was pulled from her thoughts by your gentle voice at the bathroom door. “Is everything all right, honey?”

She was bent over the bathroom counter, bracing herself against the granite. Tears were running down her cheeks causing her hair to stick to her face. You took a couple steps towards her, cupping her cheek. She pulled away.

“Wanda, baby, please tell me what’s wrong. Did I do something?” You asked.

Wanda shook her head. “No, love. No you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then what is it?” You asked softly, reaching out for her again.

Her teary green eyes finally met yours. Her bottom lip trembled. “I hurt you,” she admitted softly, in almost a whisper.

You took a sigh of relief. “It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt. It’s just a little tear. I’ll wear a pantyliner, it’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” she cried, “I hurt you! You were bleeding and I didn’t even notice! You were telling me it hurt and I didn’t listen!”

You pulled her into a tight hug, cradling her head into her chest. “Wanda, it's okay. We were just playing, just like we always do. I was having fun. I would’ve used my safe word if I wanted to stop. You did everything right, love.”

Wanda wrapped her arms around your shoulders. “I feel like a monster,” she cried softly.

You rubbed her back, kissing her temple. “You’re not a monster, love. You’re nothing of the sort,” you reassured. “You are so so far from a monster.”

She clutched you harder, pulling you impossibly close. “I love you. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, honey,” you said, taking a moment to rub her back before proposing: “How about we get cleaned up and have a nice soft snuggle night, huh?”

Wanda nodded into your chest. “Is it alright if I take a shower up here and you take one downstairs? I think I just need a minute to myself.”

You pulled her out of the hug, holding her face in your hands. “Of course, honey. Just no more spiraling into thoughts of being a monster, okay?”

She smiled, turning her head to kiss the palm of your hand. “No more spiraling,” she agreed.

You pressed a long kiss to her forehead. “I love you, Wanda. And I think you’re a wonderful person. And I think you did everything perfectly.”

She giggled. “I love you too, darling. Now go take a shower downstairs. I’ll be ready for you when you come back up.”

—————

You finished up your shower, returning to your room in some soft pajamas pants and one of Wanda’s sweatshirts. You limped up the stairs a little awkwardly. The tear hurt a little bit more than you expected after the adrenaline wore off, but it was nothing a Tylenol couldn’t fix.

You walked into Wanda nervously fluffing the pillows in a little nest she’d made for the two of you. She turned around when you opened the door, still looking a little anxious. “Oh, hi I um, I got this for you. And some Tylenol.”

She held out what looked like a pad, but was cold to the touch. “What’s this?”

“It’s just a pad with some chilled witch hazel. It’ll help with tear,” she explained.

You looked down at the pad with a hint of disgust. Pads always made you feel so uncomfortable. But when you looked back up at Wanda’s anxious frown, you simply smiled and said “thank you, love. I’ll put it on now.”

You tucked the cool pad into your underwear. Perhaps unsurprisingly, it felt better almost immediately afterwards. The cooling sensation did wonders for the burning of the tear. Wanda smiled for a moment when you sighed in relief, but quickly went back to nervously playing with her hands. “C-can I ask you something?”

You took her fidgety hands into your own. “Of course love, anything.”

She tilted her head up to briefly look you in the eyes. “Do you think you could call me mommy for tonight?” She asked. The words came fast and jumbled, like she had to force them out of her mouth before she changed her mind. “I mean I know we only use it while we’re playing and I’m being rough with you and that’s fine if you just want to stick to that and you’re under no obligation to say yes or anything I just thought that maybe I could be mommy and be sweet and take care of you just so it’s clear that I still love you when I’m mommy and I’d never do anything to try to hurt you on purpose even though mommy Wanda seems super cruel and sadistic…”

You interrupted her nervous rambling with kisses to each of her knuckles. “Of course, mommy.”

She stopped speaking for a moment, looking at you with all the love a gaze could possibly hold. She looked like she might cry again, but she simply reached up and touched your cheek. You melted easily into her touch and it made her heart sing.

She loved you, and you knew she loved you. You didn’t flinch or shy away from her. You didn’t wince like she was going to hit you. You trusted her. Even as mommy, she was going to take care of you.

“Okay, my love,” she whispered. “Let’s get you to bed.”

—————

You spent the rest of the night cocooned in a variety of soft blankets. She had you sat between her legs, arms wrapped around your waist while she repeatedly kissed the top of your head.

She had her laptop open on your lap. The two of you giggled over a game of Firegirl and Waterboy. She even let you play as Firegirl even though the Waterboy keys were much harder for her to reach around you. For a kids game, the two of you were doing exceptionally poorly, not even making it past the first few levels before your eyes started to droop and you yawned.

She gently closed the laptop, moving it to the bedside table. “Alright princess, I think it’s about time for bed.”

“We’re already in bed,” you teased through a yawn, curling up on your side into her chest.

“Cheeky girl,” she chuckled, kissing your head and turning off the bedside lamp. She pulled you close, swaddling you against her chest with a blanket.

You rubbed your face into her neck and sleepily mumbled, “I love you, mommy.”

She smiled giddily, glad you couldn’t see her in the dark room. She gently rubbed the back of your head. “Mommy loves you too, princess. Sweet dreams.”

[pretentious-blonde]

new neighbour

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: steve is down because of his dating life, or lack thereof. that is until the new girl captures his attention

warnings: literally none, nervous and sweet steve!!

a/n: i have been gone for 3 months but uni has finally settled down! also if anyone wants a pt. 2 with steve trying to help move r in i am so down! i have so many ideas!!!

A steady stream of gray light filtered through the wide front windows of Family Video, illuminating the rows upon rows of VHS cases. The day was uncharacteristically slow, the kind of weekday lull that left the store feeling hollow and cavernous. Steve Harrington stood behind the counter, leaning his elbows on the chipped laminate surface, tapping his fingers in a pattern he’d repeated so many times in an attempt to give him something to focus on. 

His eyes hurt under the fluorescents, and though he tried to keep a casual expression, anyone who looked long enough could see the small, flickering signs of boredom crossing his features. On the other side of the store, Robin roamed the aisles, a small stack of VHS tapes in her hands, placing each one in its rightful place on the shelf. Every so often, she’d glance toward Steve, as if expecting some lively remark, but he remained lost in his thoughts.

“Hey,” Robin called, sliding a Night of the Comet tape onto the appropriate rack. “So… Vicky and I were talking the other night, and we thought, maybe this weekend…” She paused, drifting closer to the register so her voice wouldn’t echo.

Steve raised an eyebrow, still drumming his fingers on the counter. “Yeah, maybe what?”

Robin placed the last tape in her stack onto the shelf with a gentle thud. “Well, we’re making dinner. A real dinner—you know, in an actual kitchen, with actual groceries. Vicky wants me to learn her mom’s lasagna recipe. The whole shebang.” Her bright eyes searched his face. “Why don’t you come over? Eat with us?”

To anyone else, that might sound like a friendly suggestion. But there was a flicker in Robin’s eyes that Steve knew well: an undercurrent of pity. After all, he’d gone on a date last weekend that hadn’t exactly gone well. He was used to being the one with endless charm, the guy who always had a witty quip or a warm smile to keep a conversation going. Yet none of that had worked on Tanya—no matter how hard he tried. God was he trying.

Steve sighed, pushing himself upright. “Yeah… no.”

Robin visibly balked, confusion knitting her brows. “What do you mean, ‘yeah… no’? You can’t just respond to an invitation like that.”

“Exactly how I just did,” he said, mouth tilting into a faint, lopsided grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thanks for the invite, but I’m not interrupting your date night just because you feel bad for me. I know you guys are trying to, like, throw me a bone or whatever.”

Robin’s cheeks puffed out in a mock sigh. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She turned away, pretending to occupy herself by adjusting a crooked VHS case. The slight shift in her voice told him otherwise. She always was a terrible liar. 

He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You know what I’m talking about.” He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, though the memory of last weekend pricked at him more than he liked to admit. Tanya had been gorgeous—dark hair, lovely eyes, a laugh that could probably stop traffic. At first glance, she was the perfect fit. But after an hour of him asking question after question and receiving nothing but uninterested one-word answers, he’d realised that appearances weren't enough to carry a conversation. The spark was missing, that intangible something that made him want to stay, to laugh, to learn more. It just wasn’t there. He was beginning to think it never would be, at least for him.

Robin finally turned back. “Okay, so maybe I know you’ve been bummed. But it’s not pity, Steve.” She rolled her eyes. “Vicky genuinely likes you. We both do.”

“Sure,” Steve said, gently drumming his fingers again. “Vicky likes me enough to let me crash her romantic, candle-lit dinner with her girlfriend.” He narrowed his eyes playfully. “Yeah, that’s not weird at all.”

Robin shot him a look. “It’s not weird if we invite you. And besides, it’s not like this is going to be some super fancy dinner. There might be candles, but that’s only so I can see the food properly, okay?”

Steve snorted, though the weight in his chest didn’t quite lift. “Look, Rob, I appreciate it,” he said, voice softening. “I do. But I’m not sure I’m up for third-wheeling on a Saturday night. I think it’s safer for everyone if I steer clear, especially given your experimental cooking.”

She pressed her lips together, fighting a smile. “Wow, way to appreciate me trying to feed you.” Though she spoke jokingly, she studied his face for signs of deeper sadness. He was Steve Harrington—he was supposed to be the one with the perpetual easy grin. But ever since his dating and social life had crashed and burned, Robin could see the twinge of hurt in his eyes. He was insecure. He liked to feel needed, he always had. He had no problem giving himself to others. So watching everyone else find their person only made him more self-conscious. The truth was nobody needed him, and that knowledge was slowly eating away at him.

“You know,” Robin added, resting her hands on the cart that held a few more tapes, “it’s not just about the date. I get it—you’re lonely. It’s okay to admit that. We’ve all been there.”

He opened his mouth, his gaze slipping away to look out the window at a slow-moving car. The driver was just a blur behind the glass, but it gave him something to focus on. Because she was right. He was lonely, and part of him wanted to accept Robin’s invitation so badly. The other part of him couldn’t bear to insert himself as a third wheel—he knew that feeling too well. He’d spent years longing for something real, something effortlessly mutual. Maybe he’d find it eventually, but not if he was hanging around a couple who only extended the invite out of sympathy.

“Okay,” Robin said, exhaling the tension that had built up between them. “If you change your mind, call me. Seriously, no guilt trip, no questions asked. Vicky won’t mind. We’ll have a plate ready.”

A genuine smile tugged at the corners of Steve’s mouth. It still looked like it held a bit of sadness but he covered it up to not upset her further. “Yeah. Thanks, Rob. I promise, if I get the sudden urge for a crisp lasagna—”

“Hey!”

He grinned for real this time. “—I’ll give you a call. Right now, though, I think I’m just gonna stick to renting a movie and ordering takeout. Maybe keep my Saturday night simple.”

Robin nodded, accepting his declination. Her gaze lingered, and she wanted to push harder, but she knew Steve well enough to sense that pushing too much would only drive him further into his own shell. “Alright,” she said softly, reaching out to pat his arm. “You know where to find me if you need to talk.”

“I know. And thanks.” He meant it.

Their eyes met before Robin moved off to shelve the remaining tapes. He watched her go, then slowly leaned forward on the counter again. Outside, the sun was getting a little brighter, illuminating the Family Video sign and casting reflections across the empty parking lot. He was trying to think about whatever movie he would undoubtedly be bringing home with him for the weekend, alone. That is, until he sees you.

You’re walking at an unhurried pace, shoulders slightly hunched against the cool breeze, but there’s something about you that holds his attention. The way your outfit matches in a way that feels effortless but intentional, the way your hair catches the light, styled just enough to suggest effort but not so much that it seems like you’re trying too hard. 

You push open the glass door, and the bell above gives a soft jingle that seems to echo in the stillness. The warmth of the store envelops you, a cozy contrast to the lingering chill outside. Rows of tapes tower around you, aisles lit by bulbs that buzz quietly in the background. It all feels a bit nostalgic, not too intimidating. 

Behind the front counter, Steve stands with his elbows braced on the worn surface. For a second, it looks like you’ve interrupted him mid-daydream—his brown eyes are distant. The moment you step inside, he blinks, and you can practically see the switch flip as you catch him. Suddenly, he’s all awareness, standing straighter, swallowing once. A faint flush colours the tips of his ears, though he tries to hide it by running a hand through his hair.

He looks at you in a way that he hopes is welcoming, he’s not sure if he should say something immediately or give you space to browse. There is a gentle lift of his shoulders as he inhales, working up the courage to speak. You offer a polite nod and slide toward the nearest aisle before he can get a word out.

He exhales a shaky breath he didn’t realise he was holding, mind racing as he tries to place you. He can’t recall seeing you here before, and he was certain he would remember if you had. He drags his fingers over the keyboard, tapping random keys to pretend he’s busy. In truth, all he wants is to keep glancing your way. It was maddening forcing his attention to the computer screen. 

You wander among the rows, taking in the titles. There’s something oddly comforting about the smell of plastic VHS covers. Occasionally, you catch sight of Steve peeking over from the desk, just for a moment, before he ducks back down to avoid being caught staring. You find yourself smiling at his obvious attempt to be casual.

He, meanwhile, is silently scolding himself. He knew he was being weird—God, he needs to get a grip. But there’s a traitorous part of him that can’t help noticing the delicate way your hair frames your face, or the look of your jacket—well worn, well loved, taken care of. Even though your aura was disarming, he felt like he was in high school all over again, unable to stop staring at the pretty girl in the corridor.

Eventually, you settle on a tape, The Empire Strikes Back—something classic you’ve been meaning to watch again. Taking a steadying breath, you head to the counter, the plastic case clutched in your hand. As you approach, he forces himself to appear relaxed, collected, though inside he’s buzzing with anticipation.

“Um, hey… Steve,” you look up from his name tag, placing the tape before him. His eyes dart down to the cover, then back up to you. “Do you work here?”

The moment you say it, you realise how silly it sounds—he’s in the company vest, with a company name tag on it. Heat flares across your cheeks.

A laugh bubbles out of him—warm, kind. He shakes his head gently as if to say, Don’t worry about it. “Yeah, I do.” 

You nod, cheeks still burning from your awkward question. “Yes. Sorry, I, uh… obviously you work here.”

“Nah, no problem. I’ve gotten weirder questions,” his smile widens, softening around the edges. You’re cute when you’re embarrassed. “Good pick, by the way.”

As he scans the tape, you notice the slight tremor in his hand. It’s barely there, but you sense the sweet, nervous energy radiating from him. His gaze flickers to you, then back to the screen, then to you again—like he can’t quite decide which deserves his attention more. You, probably.

“So, um,” he starts, clearing his throat, “I haven’t seen you around before. Are you… new in town?” He tries to sound casual, but a hopeful note creeps into his voice, as though he’s crossing his fingers for you to keep talking.

You brighten at the question, happy to have something normal to say. “I am, actually. I just moved here a few days ago. The apartment is literally right across the street—well, I think you can see it from the window.”

His eyes widened with interest and with the knowledge of your close proximity. “Yeah? Pretty convenient if you want a movie.” And maybe to see me, he almost adds. “So, when exactly did you move in?”

“Three days ago,” you reply, letting out a breathy exhale at the memory. “I’ve been knee-deep in boxes ever since. I finally decided I deserved a break, and what better way than a movie night to make the new place feel more like home, right?”

He nods fervently, excitement sparking behind his eyes. “That’s true. Shame I wasn’t working that day—maybe I could’ve, I don’t know… helped haul a box or two?” He offers a tiny shrug, his words stumbling a bit as he realises how forward that might sound. “I mean, not that I… I just… you know,” he begins to backtrack.

A warm giggle escapes you, putting him at ease. “I appreciate the thought. My arms hurt for, like, the whole day afterwards.”

He huffs a little chuckle, feeling relief wash over him when you don’t seem put off. “Exactly.”

He glances around the store for Robin knowing she’s probably lurking somewhere, listening in with a sly grin. But in this moment, he can’t bring himself to care too much; he wants you to have his full attention.

“If you don’t have a membership yet,” he says, fishing around under the counter for a form, “you’ll need to fill this out.” He slides a paper and pen toward you.

“Right, I’m totally new,” you reply, stepping closer to read the sheet. As you lean in, Steve notices the light scent of your shampoo—or maybe your perfume—and it makes his pulse skip. He’s had customers before, obviously, but none have made him feel this flustered. It wasn't a feeling he necessarily disliked. 

Fighting the urge to stare too obviously, he busies himself with looking at the returns papers, occasionally sneaking a glance your way. He notices the way your brow furrows as you fill in the different boxes, huffing to yourself when you wrote your previous address, crossing it out and starting again. It was so human, so endearing, he had to turn away fully or his amused smile would give him away. 

Once you’ve filled out the form, you pass it back. He types in your details, the corners of his mouth quirking up as he commits your name to memory. “Perfect,” he tells you, printing out a fresh membership card and sliding it across the counter.

“Thanks,” you say, tucking it into your wallet. “Feels official now.”

He can’t help but feel upset that this moment is slipping away—any second, you’ll thank him, smile, and leave. Then he’ll be stuck behind the counter once again, replaying this conversation over and over until you come to return it, which could be a week from now. That would be unacceptable.

He clears his throat. “Uh, so,” he begins, voice wavering ever so slightly. “You got any big plans this weekend? Since you’re, you know, new here.” You could tell he was aiming for confident, but that casual tone of his falters as he seems genuinely invested in your response. 

His smile drops as he hears your reply. “Actually, yeah, I do,” his heart sinks, mind already going into overdrive. You’re probably telling him politely to let him down. He knew he was being too brazen, but he couldn’t stop the embarrassment from settling in his chest. 

“I need to head into town and get some furniture,” you explain as his head looks up, stopping him from spiralling. “I heard there’s a store a few miles away?”

He smiles at the fact that you’re still talking and didn’t just shut him down, you’re just busy—and that’s okay. “Oh, yeah,” he nods eagerly. “There is, um, it’s about a ten-minute drive, tops. Depends on traffic, I guess, but Hawkins isn’t exactly wild.” He lets out a weak laugh. “What are you, uh, looking for?”

“Mostly a bookshelf. I thought I could just stack my books, but they’re already in danger of tumbling over.”

He is listening, but a large part of him is cursing how little attention he paid in English class. Wishing he could humour you more. “That’s cool,” he says safely. “So, you’re a big reader?”

You nod, eyes lighting up. “Oh absolutely, I love getting lost in a story.”

He can’t help but think how sweet you are, the warmth in your expression filling his stomach, urging him past his nerves to finally ask what he had been wanting to. “Well, if you need help lugging that thing up the stairs to your apartment, I’m, uh… not working this weekend.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, he realises that, once again, it may have been too forward. 

“Really?” You ask, face brightening before he had the chance to overthink. “That’d be great! I was kind of worried about getting it back here on my own.”

His heart does that little flip at your acceptance of his offer. He nods enthusiastically, a few rogue hairs settling on his forehead, making his appearance more boyish. 

“It’s no problem,” he tells you as he puts his hands in his pockets, trying to appear relaxed as if this wasn’t the most exciting opportunity to happen to him all year. “I’ve got a car that’s… well, it’s big enough. Definitely more roomy than your average trunk. If yours can’t handle the bookshelf, mine can.”

You break into a grateful grin. “Wow, that’s really nice of you. Seriously.”

A blush creeps across his cheeks at your kind words, his face turning bashful. “Honestly, it’s no big deal at all.” It really wasn't, if all it takes is transporting some furniture to spend more time with you, he would gladly do it.

You lift your shoulders in a shrug, feeling slightly indebted. “Well, at least let me buy you a coffee or something afterwards, to say thanks. I insist.”

“No, that’s—” He starts to protest, but the look on your face tells him you’re determined. It’s kind of adorable how your eyebrows pinch together.

“I insist,” you repeat, a little more firmly, and he laughs quietly. So you're stubborn, he can work with that.

“Alright,” he concedes, holding up his hands in surrender. “Coffee it is. How about…” Think, Steve, think. “Saturday morning, I can meet you out front, say, 10:30? Unless that’s too early?” In truth, he’d be ready at sunrise if it meant spending more time with you, but he doesn't want to sound desperate.

“That’s perfect,” you say, beaming as you pick up your rented tape. “Thank you again, Steve.”

“Sure,” he replied, feeling a grin stretch across his face, so genuine it almost hurts his cheeks. He is shocked at how he managed to do this. How—by some miracle—you of all people had moved across the street. 

You give a small wave, and the door shuts behind you, the bell chiming one last time. His heart is still hammering away as he stares at the closed door, trying to process that he just—did that. He just set up what is basically a date… or at least a coffee situation. Either way, it’s something.

In the sudden quiet, he hears a muffled sound from behind him, and when he spins around, there’s Robin standing in the break room doorway. She’s practically bouncing on her heels, eyes wide with excitement.

“Oh, my God,” she says, not even bothering to hide the grin overtaking her face. “Was that—did you just—”

“Yeah, yeah,” he cuts her off, rolling his eyes even though he can’t keep the giddy smile off his own lips. “Shut up, Robin.”

She doesn’t shut up, but he doesn't mind. All he can think about is Saturday morning, and the way your face lit up when he offered to help you, and how maybe this is going to be the start of something really, really good.

[vershautece]

i just know lu would make sooo many dirty jokes while ur supposed to be having a sweet moment cuddling or something lol

you’d be leaning against his chest on the sofa watching TV, talking about anything. ‘what do you want for dinner tonight, do you want me to make it?’ he asks you. ‘we can just get Thai takeout if you want, get a bunch of stuff and share it between us?’ ‘yeah, we’ll do that, pull up the menu on your phone’ and then he whispers in your ear ‘your tits look so good in this top baby’ as he grips them in his big hands and u fall back further into his chest at the feeling and giggle: ‘luigi, mm’ and then his hands are softly caressing your torso up and down, continuing to talk like normal as if he didn’t just grab your tits out of nowhere and make ur panties damp

or you’ll be eating a banana or something that shape lolll and he’s sat there smirking at u, he’d say something that would nearly make u choke on your food: ‘not as good as my cock, no?’ - ‘luigi, shut up just let me eat this’

imagine lu with an academic gf who’s doing her phd and he’d make soooo many jokes - he keeps saying ‘u already have a phd, u get it for free inside you every night in this bed’

in the shower too :’) you’d have so many sweet, cosy showers just washing each other bc i think he’d love to shower with u as much as possible, and i can imagine him just making little comments: ‘i can see you staring at my cock baby’ he’d tease. ‘you had it in your mouth just last night, you want it again huh?’ ‘lu, shut up i swear, i need to get to work i can’t do this right now’ u roll your eyes playfully, and he pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist as u wrap yours around his neck, the two of you pressing soft kisses to each other’s neck and shoulders

cuddling completely entangled together and kissing each other’s faces softly during conversation - you’re discussing something about the night before. ‘lu i swear i told you about this literally last night, how do you not remember’ - ‘i don’t think you did baby there wasn’t much time you spent last night without my cock in your mouth’ - you gasp, taken aback looking at him, and you both start laughing. ‘baby, you’re ridiculous’ u giggle into his neck. ‘just telling the truth, bellissima’ he chuckles, and his deep voice dropping that word in italian on u so casually like that sends a rush of heat to your core that u have to ignore bc you’re so exhausted and just wanna lay in his arms

& imagine you’re spooning just talking about ur day and suddenly he just bucks his hips up into you and starts fake fucking you through your clothes, laughing as he does. u reach your arm back to push him back playfully: ‘luigi oh my god why do you always do that out of nowhere, stop it’ ur giggling as he pulls u tighter to him and peppers kisses along the side of your neck

i just think he’d fake fuck u so much because he’s so cocky w the phd jokes and size kink😖 even feeling him soft against u would turn u on so much bc he’s so big

and don’t get me started with how often he’d be smacking ur ass and grabbing it. he’d smack ur ass lightly out of nowhere and then knead it in his big hands >.< like while ur cleaning your room or making food he’ll come up behind u

and when ur sitting on his lap so comfy, turned to the side a lil because you’re tucked into his chest so your ass is facing upwards slightly and he has room to give it a light smack and just grab and knead it while u giggle and bury your head in his neck

also in bed if ur sleeping position is cuddling facing each other and u have one leg hooked over his thigh he’ll like hold u by your ass and gently squeeze it every so often. ‘mm, lu, you’re gonna make me horny, i need to go to sleep’ - ‘alright, baby, i just love touching on you’ he laughs softly, giving your ass another tight squeeze and a smack before moving his hand up to grip your waist. ‘love you baby, you can fuck me in the morning’ you whisper to him

[heliosunny]

If that okay, can I please get yandere The Herta x reader x Ruan Mein (poly headcanon)

I have a whole plot for a fic. Maybe i'll give some headcanons in the near future.

Yandere!The Herta x Reader x Yandere!Ruan Mei

Herta has found a way to stop time around a living person, keeping them in a state of eternal beauty. Ruan Mei, on the other hand, has found a way to slow biological processes to an unnatural degree. The problem? You are the test subject.

The sterile chill of Herta Space Station was an ever-present reminder of the artificial world you had become trapped in. A cold, lifeless place where the pursuit of knowledge outweighed the warmth of human connection.

And yet, despite the vastness of the station, you felt suffocated.

Two pairs of eyes—one sharp and calculating, the other deceptively soft—never left you.

Herta sat at the edge of a console, swinging her legs lazily as she gazed at you. Boredom, as she often claimed, was the only reason she paid attention to you.

Across the room, Ruan Mei hummed softly as she adjusted a set of data on her floating screen. Unlike Herta, her smile was warm, almost gentle, but the way she looked at you like you were a rare, fragile specimen—sent a shiver down your spine.

You were their test subject and you had no way out.

“You should be honored” Herta said matter-of-factly, hopping down from the console. Her boots made no sound against the pristine floor as she approached you. “I don’t usually care about humans, but you… you are an exception.”

Your breath hitched as she reached out, cool fingers tracing the side of your face with a detached curiosity. “Such a fragile existence” she mused. “But don’t worry. I’ll preserve you. You won’t have to wither away like the others.”

From behind, you felt Ruan Mei’s presence before she even spoke. A gentle hand slid over your shoulder, pulling you into an almost comforting embrace. “Herta’s methods are too harsh, don’t you think?” Ruan Mei whispered near your ear, her voice honeyed, but laced with something darker. “Freezing you like one of her dolls? That’s too cruel… I would never treat you so coldly.”

“You’re lying” you said, barely above a whisper.

Ruan Mei laughed softly, fingers stroking your hair as if you were a cherished pet. “Oh, I would never lie to you.” She tilted her head. “I simply want to preserve you properly. A slow, careful process… where you remain alive, untouched by time. Isn’t that better?”

Herta sighed dramatically. “You’re going to ruin my fun, Ruan Mei.” She leaned against a terminal, arms crossed. “If I freeze them now, they’ll be perfectly unchanging. They’ll be mine forever.”

“But they won’t be able to feel, Herta” Ruan Mei countered, her fingers tightening ever so slightly in your hair. “What’s the point of preserving something if it loses its warmth?” She turned her gaze back to you, her smile deepening. “You don’t want that, do you?”

You swallowed hard. Both options were cages, just in different forms.

Herta tapped her chin. “Fine. I’ll let them keep their warmth…” Her lips curled into a smirk. “But only if they stay still.”

You didn’t get the chance to react before a chilling sensation crawled up your legs. Your muscles stiffened, a numbing cold locking your limbs in place. Panic surged through you as you tried to move, but your body refused to respond.

Ruan Mei tsked, kneeling beside you. “Herta, that’s cheating.” She ran her fingers over your frozen arm, sighing. “You always want to break your toys too quickly.”

“They’ll still be aware” Herta said, shrugging. “I’m not completely heartless.”

You gasped as warmth slowly returned to your fingers which is Ruan Mei’s doing. Her methods were different. Instead of outright freezing you, she manipulated your biology, altering the very essence of your body to prolong its state.

Neither option was mercy.

“You’ll belong to one of us in the end” Ruan Mei whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “So be good and choose wisely, dear.”

Your heart pounded as both women loomed over you.

You had to leave.

Your hands trembled as you slowly sat up on the research table, muscles aching from the forced stillness. Across the room, Herta and Ruan Mei were distracted- arguing, again.

“Y/n keeps resisting” Ruan Mei sighed, running a hand through her long hair. “If you keep pushing too hard, she’ll break.”

Herta, as always, looked unimpressed. “They should be grateful. I’m offering them something no other human could achieve—perfection.” She turned, glancing at you. “And yet, they keep struggling. Honestly, it’s annoying.”

This was your chance.

You exhaled softly before moving. With quiet steps, you pushed off the table, heading toward the exit. You had no plan, only instinct.

Just a little further...

“Ah-ah.”

A sudden weight pulled at your wrist, stopping you mid-step. Ruan Mei’s fingers curled gently around you, deceptively soft, like silk tightening into steel.

She sighed, her voice laced with amusement. “Where do you think you’re going, dear?”

You didn’t answer. You rarely did. Words were wasted on them. Instead, you yanked your arm back, hard.

For a split second, Ruan Mei’s eyes widened, surprised by your defiance. You twisted, shoving against her, forcing her grip to loosen. It worked—barely. You broke free, stumbling backward.

Herta tilted her head, intrigued. “Oh? Finally showing some fight?”

You ignored her, making a break for the door. Just a few more steps. Just a little... Something cold is approaching

Not the air, not fear, but Herta’s power. It wrapped around your body like invisible chains, locking your movements in place.

You clenched your teeth, muscles burning as you fought against it. Move. Move. MOVE.

Herta sighed. “Tsk. You’re being difficult.” She flicked her fingers, tightening the hold. “Why do you keep running? There’s no escape.”

Your breathing was uneven, but you still managed a glare.

Ruan Mei chuckled, stepping closer. “You’re so stubborn.” She brushed her fingers along your jaw, tilting your face toward her. “But I know, deep down, you care for us. That’s why you won’t say it outright… You don’t want to hurt our feelings, right?”

Your lips pressed into a thin line.

She wasn’t completely wrong.

Despite everything, despite the cage they forced you into—some part of you still cared. It made it harder to fight, harder to hurt them. And they knew that.

Herta sighed, lowering her hand. The freezing hold on your body vanished, sending you collapsing to your knees.

“You’re interesting” she muttered. “Annoying, but interesting.”

The cold grip of Herta’s power had left, but the phantom sensation still clung to your limbs like frostbite. Your body ached from the strain, yet you refused to show it.

Ruan Mei’s fingers remained against your cheek, her touch deceptively warm. “You’re so tense” she murmured, tilting her head. “Are you afraid of us?”

There was no point in answering. They'll do as they pleased anyway.

Your silence made Ruan Mei smile, as if she found your resistance adorable. “Oh, dear, we’re not your enemies” she crooned. “You’re just confused.”

Herta scoffed from behind. “They’re not confused. They just don’t appreciate what we’re doing for them.”

Your fingers twitched against the cold floor.

What you’re doing for me?

Your lips parted slightly, but no words escaped. You weren’t one for talking, and even if you were, what could you possibly say that would change their minds?

So, instead, you acted. Your body surged forward. Not toward Herta or Ruan Mei, but toward the small, sharp scalpel lying on the nearby counter.

Ruan Mei gasped, momentarily caught off guard by your sudden movement. Herta’s eyes flickered with intrigue, her hand rising just a fraction.

You snatched the scalpel in a tight grip, pivoting swiftly.

Ruan Mei’s expression faltered for the first time. “You wouldn’t.”

You would.

The small blade pressed lightly against your own neck—just enough to break the skin. A thin line of warmth dripped down your collarbone.

If they wouldn’t let you go… then you would take the one thing they refused to control. Your own life.

For the first time, true panic flashed in Ruan Mei’s eyes. “No—! Stop, dear, please.”

Herta’s entire body stiffened. “You’re being unreasonable” she muttered, but there was something off in her voice. Frustration? Fear?

Your grip on the scalpel remained firm. You weren’t bluffing.

For the first time, they had lost control.

The realization made your heart pound—not from fear, but from hope.

“I—” Ruan Mei swallowed hard, taking a step closer. “Put it down, sweetheart. Please.” Her voice, usually laced with amusement, now trembled. “We just want to protect you. You matter to us.”

You didn’t react. You just pressed the blade slightly deeper.

A small sound escaped Ruan Mei. “No, no, no—” She reached for you, panic overriding her usual grace. “Let me help, love—”

That moment of desperation—that single second of hesitation—was all you needed. With your free hand, you snatched the vial from the counter beside you, a small, forgotten bottle of one of Ruan Mei’s biological solutions. You didn’t know what it did. You didn’t care. With a swift motion, you threw it to the ground.

The glass shattered. A thick, burning chemical filled the air.

Ruan Mei gasped, stumbling back as the fumes stung her eyes. Herta hissed, raising an arm to shield her face. You ran.

Your legs screamed in protest, but you forced them forward, through the haze, through the pain—toward the exit.

Your chance. Your only chance.

But your body froze mid-step, a suffocating cold locking your limbs in place.

Herta’s voice was eerily calm. “You just had to make things difficult, didn’t you?”

Ruan Mei coughed behind her, her voice trembling. “Darling… why would you do that?” Her tone was no longer sweet. It was shaken. Frightened.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly, your breath shallow. So close. You had been so, so close.

Tears pricked Ruan Mei’s eyes, but her lips curved into something unnerving. “You almost broke my heart...” she whispered, stepping forward.

Herta clicked her tongue. “We’ll have to restrain them better next time.”

Your vision blurred as the ice tightened around you, swallowing you whole.

You were no longer sure how much time had passed.

The constant experiments, the whispered reassurances, the subtle shifts in your body, it had all blurred into something… different. Your thoughts weren’t as sharp as before. Most important of all, you stopped trying to escape. Not because you didn’t want to. But because… the thought of leaving felt wrong.

You hated how your hands no longer trembled when Herta ran cold fingers through your hair. You hated how your body no longer flinched when Ruan Mei pressed a kiss against your temple, murmuring praises.

You hated that when they told you to sit still, you obeyed.

You hated that you couldn’t tell if it was by choice anymore.

The incident was insignificant.

Ruan Mei had been handling a delicate set of biological samples when a sudden alert blared through the lab, startling her just enough for a sharp glass vial to shatter against her palm.

A thin line of red trickled down her fingers.

You moved on instinct. Your hands reached for hers before you could stop them. Gently—almost tenderly, you turned her palm upward, examining the wound.

“…Oh?”

Ruan Mei blinked, momentarily caught off guard.

You didn’t speak. You rarely did. Instead, you reached for a nearby cloth, pressing it against the cut with practiced care. The warmth of her skin against yours was unsettlingly familiar.

She let you.

Herta, watching from the side, smirked. “How interesting.”

You didn’t react. You focused, wrapping Ruan Mei’s hand with slow, steady movements. Your fingers trembled slightly, but not from fear.

It was muscle memory.

The act of caring, of tending to wounds, it had always been a part of you. Even now, even after everything, that part remained.

Ruan Mei chuckled, breaking the silence. “My, my… you really are sweet, aren’t you?”

Your hands froze for a fraction of a second.

Then—warm fingers brushed against your cheek.

You flinched.

Ruan Mei’s smile deepened. “How adorable.”

Herta swung her legs over the console, tilting her head. “It seems all that time adjusting you has finally paid off.”

A chill ran down your spine.

Ruan Mei giggled, curling her now-bandaged fingers around your own. “You didn’t even think before tending to me, dear.” Her voice was honeyed.

Your heart pounded.

No...no, no, no.

This wasn’t right.

This wasn’t you.

But as Ruan Mei leaned in, her lips ghosting over your forehead, and as Herta smirked knowingly, you knew it was too late.

[misshoneyimhome]

"I wanna fuck you right against the glass so everyone can see how good you take" + “Don’t be gentle” These little prompts for Willy's x inexperienced reader. Pre-game warm-up games are a great way to motivate William before the game really begins. Often, you use the time to find your perfect spot to watch the show; you really like to be here as a normal patron and not the WAG of the most popular Swedish player.

Someone, please take me to church 🙈

So, I got a request for a little texting tease and maybe something new… Now, I know they’ve already had their moment in the penalty box (if I remember correctly), but that doesn’t mean they can’t… revisit a similar idea, right? 😉💕

Side note – I promise I’d never actually distract William right before a game! We all know how routine-minded and superstitious these boys are 😂

Anyway, moving on—happy naughty reading, babes 💕

Tropes & warnings: Inexperienced!reader x Willy, established relationship, 18+ smut: so, we’ve got a bit of everything I guess, public, oral sex (f receiving), orgasm denial, unprotected vaginal penetration, overstimulation, cum inside

word count: 3.7K

➼｡ﾟ

A Perfect View I William Nylander x Inexperienced Reader ✐☆

The holiday season had been a blur of activity. Between William’s demanding game schedule, the endless family gatherings, and the constant hustle and bustle, moments of true intimacy had almost become a rarity. It wasn’t just that you missed him—you ached for him. Days filled with fleeting kisses and hurried touches had left you restless and wanting more.

The late nights when William returned home utterly drained, offering only soft, sleepy affections, were starting to wear on you. You longed for the connection, the passion that had always burned so brightly between you. You knew it wasn’t just you—he must have felt it too—but exhaustion and obligations had kept you both in this frustrating lull. Deciding it was time to take matters into your own hands, you planned to break through the dry spell in a way neither of you would forget.

Tonight, as you settled into your seat among the crowd like any other patron during pre-game warmups, your attention was locked on William. Every movement he made on the ice held your gaze—the sharp turns, the effortless speed, the unshakable confidence in every stride. Yet, your thoughts drifted far beyond the rink, to what you were planning for later, and the heat simmering in your chest was anything but subtle.

You couldn’t help yourself—it had been days of longing, stolen kisses, and fleeting touches, and it was driving you wild. Being so close to William yet unable to fully have him had built an ache deep within you, a tension that you couldn’t ignore any longer. Watching him skate across the ice with his usual effortless precision only heightened the longing, and as you sat in your spot in the stands, the playful idea you’d been toying with for days began to take root. If you couldn’t have him now, you’d find a way to remind him of what he was missing.

Reaching for your phone, your fingers hovered over the keyboard, heat already pooling low in your belly at the thought of what you were about to send. Boldness and mischief combined as you typed out the first message.

You: Good luck tonight, babe! Can’t wait to celebrate later 😉

From your spot, you saw him skate toward the bench during a break, glancing at his phone while one of his teammates spoke beside him. His lips quirked in the faintest smile, and within seconds, your screen lit up with his reply.

William: Me neither! I need you so bad right now❤���‍🔥

Your heart skipped a beat at his confession, and a wave of heat flushed through you. You bit your lip, your fingers dancing across the screen with a confidence, your desire overriding any hesitation.

You: Me too… how about if you score a goal, you get to do anything you want tonight?😉

As he stood near the bench, his head tilted slightly as though he were processing your words. Then, you saw it—a faint smirk curling on his lips. He rubbed a gloved hand on the back of his neck, his shoulders shifting as if trying to shake off the distraction. Another reply popped up.

William: You sure you wanna give me that kind of power? 😜

You grinned to yourself, the bubbling excitement spreading through you as you leaned back in your seat. The idea of teasing him, of throwing him off his game even just a little, was exhilarating. You took your time typing your next message, savouring the game you were playing.

You: Mmm of course! I only have one wish though…

William: And what’s that?

You hesitated for only a second before typing the words that had been circling in your mind all day, the ones that had you blushing but unable to resist sending.

You: Maybe I wanna try something… new…

The response was immediate, and you could almost feel the weight of his attention as the words lit up your screen.

William: Mmm like what? We’ve already done so many… things.

You bit your lip, heat spreading through your body as you thought about how to answer.

You: Mmm yes… but I want more. It’s been too long ❤️

From across the ice, you caught a glimpse of him running his hand across his neck again, his gaze momentarily distant as though he were replaying your words in his head. The distraction was obvious; his focus on the game had shifted completely to you. Another message appeared.

William: so needy ❤️‍🔥but I have an idea… I love seeing you in the crowd, cheering me on like that… but all I think about is how I wanna fuck you right against the glass so everyone can see how good you take me…

Your cheeks flamed as you read his words, the bluntness of his confession sending a jolt straight through you. The idea was so audacious, so vividly William, that it left you breathless. But instead of shrinking away, you decided to meet his energy head-on.

You: Don’t make promises you can’t keep, babe❤️

A pause. You could almost hear the groan of frustration that must’ve escaped him as the next text came through, short and exasperated.

William: Fuck, you’re bad… how am I supposed to play a game now, älskling???

You grinned, the thrill of teasing him filling you with giddy anticipation. If he was distracted now, you could only imagine how much fun you’d have after the game. With a mischievous glint in your eye, you typed one final message.

You: It’s just motivation, babe 😉 Besides… I’ll make it easy for you… I’m just sitting here cheering you on… commando…

The reply came almost instantly, his frustration practically oozing from the words.

William: You’re killing me!

The playful exchange left you buzzing, your heart pounding as you tucked your phone away. From your seat, you watched as William skated back onto the ice, his movements still as sharp as ever but with an edge of tension that hadn’t been there before. The knowledge that you’d gotten under his skin, that he was likely thinking about your messages with every stride, left you grinning.

The rest of the warmup flew by, your mind filled with the promise of what would come after the game. You’d lit a fire in him, and the thought of how he’d react when he finally had you all to himself sent a shiver of excitement through you.

_

The arena was nearly empty, the echo of skates on ice had faded into the distance as players retreated to the locker room. Only a few staff members remained, their voices muffled as they moved about in the background, eventually leaving you all to yourself. You stood by the front row seats behind the goal, exactly where William had told you to wait, the anticipation curling low in your belly as the cool air from the rink prickled against your exposed skin.

You shifted on your feet, the oversized #88 jersey draping over your frame, brushing against your thighs with every slight movement. Beneath it, all you wore was a thin, fitted skirt, one that barely concealed the way your body ached for him, and knee-high boots that added a little to the sexy look you were wearing for your boyfriend. The air was cool against your legs, but the heat building inside you drowned out any discomfort.

Then, the sound of footsteps behind you snapped you out of your thoughts. You looked up just in time to see William approaching, dressed in his post-game outfit, his damp hair falling slightly into his eyes. His white dress shirt was tucked haphazardly into his tailored loose trousers, the loosened tie around his neck making him look devastatingly good. But it was the way he looked at you—like a predator closing in on its prey—that made your pulse race.

William didn’t say a word at first—he just took his time drinking you in, his gaze raking over your body, lingering on the way his jersey swallowed your frame. His jaw tightened slightly, his tongue running over his bottom lip as he exhaled slowly, as if physically restraining himself.

“You listened,” he finally murmured, his voice rough, laced with something darker. His hands flexed at his sides like he was fighting the urge to reach for you immediately.

Your lips curved into a playful smile, shifting slightly so the jersey rode up just a little higher on your thighs. “You told me to wait here,” you said innocently, though the heat in his gaze told you he wasn’t fooled for a second.

William took another step closer, closing the space between you until your back pressed up against the glass. The coolness against your back made you shiver, but it was nothing compared to the warmth radiating from him. His scent—clean, masculine, with just a hint of sweat from the game—washed over you, making your stomach tighten with anticipation.

His hands finally moved, sliding up your bare thighs, his thumbs tracing slow, deliberate circles against your skin. “Do you know how hard it was to focus tonight?” he murmured, his voice low and thick. His fingers dipped just beneath the hem of your jersey, grazing the edge of your skirt. “Knowing you were sitting there, watching me, wearing this—” he tugged lightly at the fabric of his jersey, his lips ghosting over your jaw, just barely not touching. “And knowing exactly what you weren’t wearing underneath?”

You swallowed hard, your breath catching as his hands slid higher, teasing along the tops of your thighs. “I thought it would be… motivating,” you admitted, barely able to keep your voice steady.

William chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. “Oh, it was,” he said, pressing his body against yours, his hands now gripping your waist, pinning you against the boards. “But now it’s your turn.”

Your stomach flipped as his words sank in. “My turn?” you echoed; your voice breathy.

He hummed, pressing a kiss just beneath your ear, his teeth grazing lightly over your skin. “Mmm. I played my game. Now I want to see how well you can follow.”

Your breath hitched as he slid his hands down, gripping the backs of your thighs, lifting you effortlessly until your legs wrapped around his waist. The shift pressed you even harder against the glass, the cold contrasting deliciously with the heat of his body. His mouth finally found yours, his lips claiming you with a deep, searing kiss that stole the air from your lungs.

You moaned softly, hands threading through his damp hair as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping over yours in a way that made your entire body tremble. His grip on your thighs tightened, his fingers digging in as he rolled his hips forward just enough to make you feel him.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes dark with hunger. “You said you wanted to try something new,” he murmured, his fingers tracing slow, teasing patterns before slipping under your skirt. “Let’s see how brave you really are.”

Your heart pounded as you met his gaze, heat curling in your stomach. “Don’t be gentle,” you whispered.

William’s smirk was nothing short of sinful. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

Before you could process what was happening, he gripped your hips and lifted you off the glass, setting you down onto shaky legs. But he wasn’t done—not even close. Dropping to his knees before you, his hands traced a slow, deliberate path up your thighs, pushing the fabric of your skirt higher and higher until you were completely exposed to him.

A shiver ran down your spine as the cool air of the arena kissed your bare skin, but the real source of your trembling was the heat in William’s eyes—the way he looked at you like he was ready to devour you whole.

His hands gripped the backs of your thighs, spreading them just enough before he leaned in and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your core, his tongue flicking out to taste you. Your hands shot to his hair instinctively, fingers tangling in the damp strands as your knees nearly buckled beneath the first firm stroke of his tongue.

“Oh fuck! Willy-“

You gasped, the sound echoing in the empty arena, but William was quick to pull back with his pointed finger vertically on his mouth, his blue eyes dark and commanding as they flicked up to meet yours. “Shh, älskling,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your sensitive skin again as he spoke. “You don’t want anyone to hear, do you?”

The low, taunting rasp of his voice sent a thrill straight through you, but it was hard—so hard—to stay quiet when he was this good. His mouth was relentless, working you over with deep, languid strokes of his tongue, alternating between teasing flicks and firm, wet pressure that made your thighs tremble. His nose brushed against your swollen clit with every movement, the slight friction making your breath hitch.

You bit down on your lip, desperate to hold in your moans, but William wasn’t making it easy for you. If anything, he was pushing you closer to the edge with cruel precision, one hand keeping your hips firmly in place while the other trailed up your inner thigh, his fingers sliding through your slick folds before pressing inside you.

A strangled whimper escaped you, and William hummed in approval, the vibration sending a shockwave through your entire body. His fingers curled just right, stroking that spot that made your vision blur, while his tongue lavished your clit with unrelenting attention.

You felt like you were drowning—drowning in the pleasure, in the sheer dominance he had over your body. You writhed against him, every nerve alight, your thighs shaking as he drove you higher and higher with ruthless precision.

“God, Willy,” you panted, voice barely above a whisper, your hands clutching at his hair, desperate for something to anchor you. “I— I can’t—”

William chuckled against you, sending another pulse of pleasure straight through your core. “Oh, you can,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to look up at you, his lips glistening with your juices. “And you will.”

His fingers worked you mercilessly, curling deep as his tongue flicked against your swollen clit with quick, deliberate strokes. The combination was too much, the pressure building so fast it made your head spin.

Your body tensed, the heat in your core about to snap, but just as you teetered on the edge—just as you were about to fall apart—William pulled away.

A desperate, strangled sound left your throat, your body trembling with frustration as the pleasure was ripped away from you at the last second. “Willy,” you whined, your nails digging into his shoulders.

He stood, his smirk dark and knowing, his hands still gripping your thighs. “Not yet,” he murmured, voice dripping with control. “You don’t get to come until I say so.”

Your head fell back against the glass, a mix of desperation and need swirling inside you as you blinked up at him. “You’re evil,” you breathed, your body still aching, still pulsing for release.

William chuckled, his lips grazing your jaw as he pressed his body against yours. “No, älskling,” he murmured, his hands slipping under your skirt again, teasing you with featherlight touches that made you shudder. “I’m just patient.”

His lips brushed against yours, his breath warm, teasing. “And now,” he whispered, voice dripping with promise, “I’m going to give you the perfect view.”

Spinning you around, William pinned you against the glass, his large hands gripping your hips with an unrelenting possessiveness. Your palms pressed against the cool surface, your breath leaving a foggy imprint as you stared out at the vast, empty rink—the entire arena laid out before you like a stage. A forbidden, unspoken thrill curled through you. This was his domain, his territory, and now, he was claiming you right in the centre of it.

You heard the soft clink of his belt, followed by the low rustle of fabric as he unbuckled his trousers, letting them pool around his ankles. The anticipation sent a shiver down your spine, your body tensing in response as he pressed up behind you, the heat radiating from him a stark contrast to the chill of the glass.

His hands smoothed over your waist before sliding lower, gripping the curve of your ass as he positioned himself behind you. You sucked in a breath as you felt the thick, aching length of him nudge against your entrance, teasing, taunting—just enough to make you squirm.

William exhaled, slow and controlled, his gaze fixed on the rink ahead. “Look at that,” he murmured, voice thick with hunger. “Right here, in the middle of everything.” His hands squeezed your hips, his grip firm enough to brand the moment into your skin. “Like I own the place. Like I own you.”

The possessiveness in his tone sent heat rushing through you, your fingers pressing harder against the glass. “You do,” you breathed, arching your back slightly, urging him to move.

He let out a dark chuckle, one hand trailing up your spine, fingers tangling in your hair as he tugged just enough to tilt your head back. “Yeah?” he murmured against your ear, his voice sending a shiver straight down your body. “Then let me remind you.”

And with that, he pushed inside you in one deep, hard thrust.

A gasp tore from your lips as your body stretched to accommodate him, the sweet burn of fullness making you tremble against the glass. William groaned low in his throat, his hands flexing against your hips as he buried himself to the hilt, his chest pressing flush against your back.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his breath warm against the shell of your ear. “You feel so fucking good.”

The intensity of the moment—the exposure, the thrill of knowing someone could walk in at any moment—made everything feel sharper, more electric. William’s grip on you tightened as he pulled back, only to thrust into you again, the force of it pushing you further against the glass. Your moan was barely muffled as you bit your lip, struggling to stay quiet.

His movements were slow at first, teasing, making you feel every inch of him before retreating just enough to leave you desperate for more. But as he found his rhythm, his control began to slip. The sound of skin meeting skin echoed in the empty arena, his hips slamming against yours with a steady, relentless force that had you teetering on the edge of bliss.

“You like this, don’t you?” he growled, his hand slipping under the hem of your jersey, splaying across your stomach as he pulled you even closer. “Being fucked right here where anyone could see? My pretty little slut, pressed up against the glass, taking me so fucking good.”

You moaned, your fingers flexing against the cool surface, the combination of his filthy words and the deep, punishing thrusts sending your body spiralling. “Yes—God, yes,” you gasped, the pressure in your core coiling impossibly tight.

William groaned at your response, his hand sliding down between your legs to toy with your clit, circling it with precise, merciless strokes. Your knees nearly buckled, your body writhing against his as pleasure overtook you.

“Come for me,” he rasped, his pace growing more erratic, his own release looming. “Let them hear how good I fuck you.”

That was all it took. Your orgasm hit with breathtaking force, your body shuddering as waves of pleasure coursed through you, leaving you utterly at his mercy. Your vision blurred, your forehead pressing harder against the cool glass as muffled cries escaped your lips, William’s name falling from them in desperate, breathless pleas.

But he wasn’t finished. Not even close.

William showed no mercy, his thrusts growing even rougher, more relentless as you trembled beneath him. There was no reprieve, no moment to catch your breath—only the relentless pleasure he continued to drive into you. Overstimulated and utterly wrecked, you gasped for air, your body straining against the onslaught of sensation. It was almost unbearable, the overwhelming ecstasy pushing you to the brink once more.

Your legs threatened to give out as another climax coiled deep within you, your slick cum dripping down your thighs, evidence of just how thoroughly he was ruining you.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” William growled, his voice thick with raw desire. The sight of you—completely undone, shattered against the glass—only fueled his own need. His grip on your hips tightened, and with a sharp thrust, he picked up the pace, chasing his own release with unrelenting determination.

“Please, Willy, I can’t—” you whimpered, though the plea lacked any real conviction. A part of you loved this too much—the way he took control, the way he claimed you completely. The roughness, the possession in every thrust, every grip of his hands on your hips.

A broken moan slipped from your lips as another wave of overstimulation crashed through you, your body trembling from the relentless pleasure. William’s grip tightened, his fingers digging into your skin as he pushed himself closer to the edge, his breathing ragged and uneven.

“You can,” he growled, his voice dark and breathless against your ear. “And you will.”

His words sent a fresh jolt of heat through you, and just moments later, the tension in his body snapped. With a deep, guttural groan, he buried himself deep inside you, his grip bruising as he thrust one final time. Your name fell from his lips, rough and desperate, as his release spilled into you, filling you completely.

His forehead rested against your shoulder as he caught his breath, his hands smoothing over your hips as though grounding himself after the intensity of it all. His lips brushed your skin in a soft, lingering kiss, a stark contrast to the way he’d just taken you.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, his voice still thick with satisfaction.

Completely spent, your body melted against the glass, still trembling from the aftershocks. A small, breathless laugh escaped you as you tilted your head slightly to meet his gaze.

“I think everyone in the rink knows that now,” you teased, voice shaky but full of warmth.

William chuckled, pressing another kiss to your shoulder before finally pulling away just enough to help steady you. “Good,” he murmured, a satisfied smirk playing at his lips. “Let them.”

[haorose]

what do you do think the boys top kinks are?

i was waiting for this oneee 🤭 (may have gotten carried away w some of them oops)

zerobaseone legal line’s top kinks:

jiwoong

biting/marking: mainly chose this bc of the vampire drama he was in 😵‍💫 jiwoong LOOOVES to leave marks all over your body, practically claiming you as his. he loves the little whines you let out when he bites you, smirking against your skin. your noises keep him going, “gotta mark what’s mine, yeah?”

ice play: listen just heart me out,, i’m a firm believer that he’d rather use ice than wax mainly because he would LOVE to see you shiver at the touch. your whimpers and whines from the cool feeling only would make you wetter and of course jiwoong sees that. he’d trail it down your body all the way to your core, stopping on purpose 🥴

zhang hao

fingering: in my opinion, he has the prettiest hands and he KNOWS he has such pretty hands. so when you say with the shyest voice, “i want you to finger me hao,” how could he resist that? he would love to see how much you can take, “think you can take one more, love?” without even realizing, you nodded your head,, a lewd moan releasing from your lips as he now has 3 fingers in you. he’d give you kisses with each thrust, “you’re doing so good for me.”

dollification: he loves his pretty doll and loves ruining his pretty doll. seeing you all dressed up in a short, frilly pink skirt, knee highs, and a bow corset top would have him weak in the knees for you. “fuck baby.. let me ruin you, yeah?” all you could was whine, nodding your head “p-please..” and to that, hao gently took off your clothes, not wanting to rip them since you just look so so cute. he’d definitely go shopping with you, picking out the shortest yet cutest tops and skirts he could find.

hanbin

breath play: i believe in the ‘harddom! hanbin’ agenda so he would definitely love choking you. not to the point it hurts, but just enough to make your panties soaked and begging for him to do something. sometimes you’d reach a hand to hold his wrist, biting your lip as you looked up at him. it would send him over the moon, you look so sexy under him.

pussy spanking: please HEAR ME OUT ON THIS ONE. he wouldn’t do often, only if you’d been teasing him or pushing his buttons. not that you mind, his hand going right on your clit with every spank. “it’s supposed to be a punishment but you like it so much, huh?” he’d mock your moans and begs, smirking at the way your face flushed and mouth hung open. “such a dirty brat.”

matthew

spanking: okay listen, he is 100% an ass man you cannot tell me otherwise! big or small, flat or large, he does not care! he just loves ass. at any point in time, whether it’s in public, in private, sleeping, eating etc.. , his hand is on your ass. he would LOVE doggy style,, being able to look at your ass, smacking it until his red hand print leaves a mark. he’d kiss it afterwards, maybe leaving some hickeys on it too. if you bend over in front of him, oh best believe you’re being carried to the bed 🥴

over stimulation: he’d only do this with your consent of course, but when you do he can’t get enough of it. the way you beg him to stop, yet your body begs for more of him is enough to get him hard again. “t-too much..” you’d say as you kept fucking into his fingers, your next high approaching. “looks like you still want more, but i can stop.” you shake your head ‘no’, a smirk on his lips as he thrusted his fingers faster.

taerae

edging+begging (f. receiving): we’ve seen how much taerae is a tease and of course that doesn’t stop at you. he wants to hear how bad you want to cum, how bad you want him. “mm i don’t know angel, i think you need to do better than that.” he says with his sweet smile, pulling out as you gripped the sheets. “please taerae! need you so so much, please!” eyes watering from the loss of pleasure, he hummed in amusement. “atta girl, that’s what i wanted to hear.”

dacryphilia: this kind of goes with the last one, he’d love seeing his pretty angel cry for him. when you first started fucking, he got worried when he saw your tears. “did i hurt you angel?” you’d shake your head immediately “n-no, just feels so good.” and from that moment, he loved it.he’d kiss your tears, telling you how well you’re doing for him. “shh baby, it’s okay. you’re doing so good for me.”

ricky

mirrors: he loves looking at his pretty baby all fucked out for him and forcing you to look. if you even dare look away, he’ll tug your hair or grip your chin, forcing you to look back at the mirror “ah, ah, eyes on the mirror, baby. don’t you want to see how good i’m fucking you?” bonus points for when you visit him at the practice room when he’s alone, fucking you in front of the big mirror. even though you don’t say it, you love it so much.

tit play: same as matthew, he doesn’t care if they’re big or small he just loves boobs. especially your boobs. he’d ask to fuck your boobs, to which you said “why not?” not realizing it would become both of your favorite things. he mark all over them, suck your nipples until they’re hard, play with them, anything you can imagine. it’s his favorite place to cum, as if he painted a canvas.

gyuvin

size kink: you can’t look at me and say he doesn’t have a size kink.. this man is so fucking tall. even if you were around his height, he’d still have it because this man is PACKING. he is the perfect length, width, and not to mention it’s just so pretty. the way your pussy swallows his dick sends him in a frenzy, “shit, you can take it all yeah? i know you can.”

blindfold: you both wanted to try something new and he suggested blindfolding. you were a little hesitant at first and he reassured you, kissing your cheek. “we don’t have to, but if you do want to, i promise i’ll go easy, okay?” you ended up giving in thanks to his words, your nerves replaced with excitement and pleasure. you didn’t know what he was going to do and that was enough to send waves of arousal through your body. he loves being able to surprise you with his touch.

gunwook

thigh riding: this man has some nice thighs, so when you suggested that you wanted to ride them, he couldn’t have been more happy. he’d keep a hold on your waist, helping you move back and forth against his thigh. you knew it was going to feel good, but not that good. you’d feel your high quickening, to which he’d move his thigh a bit, leaning back as he watched you. “that’s it darling, make a mess on my thigh.”

cockwarming: this is for when he gets just a little lazy, asking if he can just keep his dick inside you. he loves when you move slightly, letting out a soft groan. though i do think he gets just a teeny bit impatient, slowly fucking into you. being the tease he is, he will stop which would cause you to whimper. “not yet baby, i promise i’ll fuck you soon.”

[writingsinashes]

Law & Order: Sah Edition

“She looks sad. She looks angry. She looks different from everyone else I know—she cannot put on that happy face others wear when they know they are being watched. She doesn’t put on a face for me, which makes me trust her somehow.”

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Feel free to send as many asks as you'd like—I truly enjoy them! However, please keep in mind that it may take me some time to respond. I appreciate your patience! I do reserve the right to delete any asks that I deem inappropriate or if I simply feel I lack the inspiration to respond to them. For Ask Memes, they will be posted in their own separate threads and considered as thread starters for those specific characters. I view these memes as a great way to break the ice and make it easier to continue interactions! If you’re running a multimuse blog, please be sure to specify which muse you are writing as when sending asks or starter calls. It helps me to respond more accurately! If you're unsure, feel free to provide a couple of options, and I’ll do my best to choose or reply accordingly. If this isn’t specified, I may either disregard the ask or respond with a random muse. Thank you so much for your understanding, and I look forward to interacting with you! <3

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I enjoy pre-plotting threads, so don’t be surprised if, when we first start discussing potential interactions, I suggest talking things through in detail. While I’m open to winging things as well, I do want to note that I’m not the best at writing starters, so I tend to ask my partner to initiate the first post! Please be mindful that I prefer not to be pressured about specific ships, plots, or ideas. If I express that I don’t feel something would work well, I kindly ask that you respect my decision and refrain from bringing it up repeatedly. Your understanding and cooperation are greatly appreciated!

Rule 7: Shipping Muses and Thread Content.

I’m a big fan of shipping and exploring different dynamics, but I believe that chemistry between characters is key. Please don’t take it personally if things don’t develop as we initially expected—sometimes, muses just don’t align the way we hope. I truly appreciate your understanding! I'm not just looking for romantic relationships but familial ones as well as friendships and platonic ones. However, I do not very often change a muse's sexual orientation, so if they identify as "Straight," then that's how I'm writing them, and so on and on.

Rule 8: Approaching different verser or crossovers.

I recently came across a plot idea that I thought was really creative and wanted to share. "An AU where our muses discover the ability to jump into any book they choose. They can explore different worlds, until one day, they land in a fandom where they get stuck. Now, they must navigate the story, avoid being noticed, and figure out how to fix things without meeting a grim fate." This concept is how I approach crossovers, so if you're ever interested in exploring something similar, that's the kind of framework I enjoy! It's a fun way to blend fandoms and create unique scenarios where our characters have to adapt to unfamiliar settings.

Rule 9: Sah's State of Mind.

I want to be transparent about my mental health, as it can sometimes affect my interactions here. I have been diagnosed with PTSD, anxiety, insomnia, bipolar disorder type 2, severe depression, schizoaffective disorder, and borderline personality disorder. Despite my best efforts, these conditions can influence my actions, and at times, I may need to take a step back or become quieter for a few days. I never anticipated needing to outline this as a rule, but it's important for you to understand that these health challenges are part of who I am. If you're unfamiliar with borderline personality disorder or any of my other conditions, I encourage you to learn more about them to better understand my experience. I tend to become anxious and worried that I may have unknowingly offended someone, particularly if there’s a delay in communication, like not receiving a reply OOC (out of character), or feeling like I’ve been ignored or ghosted. If you’re someone who struggles with directly telling me if you're no longer interested in talking or writing with me, I kindly ask that you reconsider approaching me. I deeply value the OOC relationships I build with the wonderful muns behind the muses, and I invest a lot into those connections. Please know that I won’t apologize for caring about our interactions.

Rule 10: The Trigger Tagging Situation Here on this RP Blog.

If someone specifically requests that I tag something, I will make every effort to ensure it’s properly tagged. However, I do want to be transparent and say that, more often than not, I can be a bit forgetful when it comes to tagging. I apologize in advance for any oversight. I do my best to keep everyone’s rules in mind, but with the number of people I interact with and my own memory limitations, it’s not always feasible to remember every detail. Because of this, I offer flexibility with my own rules and would greatly appreciate it if the same understanding is extended to me. Please know that I never intend to violate anyone’s rules or cause discomfort, and I’m always open to communication if something needs to be addressed. Your understanding and patience mean a lot!

Rule 11: The content and warnings that come with this RP Blog.

I don’t have many specific triggers to list, but I’m generally open to exploring a wide range of themes. I make an effort to tag all darker threads accordingly, so if you’re interested in exploring content of that nature, please feel free to add me on Discord or DM me directly to discuss. However, please be aware that there may be taboo ships featured on this blog, such as those from Game of Thrones and House of the Dragon, and these themes may extend to other fandoms as well. Some content I may engage with includes, but is not limited to: gore, horror, smut, incest, assault, violence, blood, mental and physical disorders, pain, drugs, and alcohol. This list may expand over time as new ideas emerge. If any of these themes make you uncomfortable, I completely understand if you choose not to engage. Your comfort and boundaries are respected, and I won’t take offense if you decide to step away.

Rule 12: When FOLLOWING me or UNFOLLOWING me | When to Soft Block vs Hard Block.

We all know that Tumblr can be glitchy, and things like being unfollowed and refollowed can happen unexpectedly. If you've soft blocked me and I unknowingly re-follow you, I realize that may cause some discomfort for both of us. While I understand that there may be reasons behind this, I’m not entitled to an explanation, but I would prefer it if, in cases where you feel the need to soft block me, you simply hard block my RP blog instead. This way, we can avoid any confusion or awkwardness. Additionally, I regularly clean up my followers list, so if you notice I’ve unfollowed you and it seems random, it could be because I mistakenly thought we were no longer mutuals. If this happens, especially if you’re following me from a side blog (which I have no problem with at all!), please feel free to let me know. I’d really appreciate it, and it will help clear up any misunderstandings. Thank you!

[thisisjustfanfic]

Cleaning up the Timeline

{My contribution to the fandom. The obligatory "everyone lives together in one big house and they kiss kiss kiss, and they love love love each other.}

Read on ao3.

Tags: Reader/L&DS Men, Romance, Maid AU, Eventual Smut. SFW (For now)

Chapter 3: Negotiating

You find a supply closet on the main floor near the stairwell and are relieved to see a good stock of cleaning supplies and tools. Retrieving a broom, you decide to make yourself useful until Zayne gets back. 

With one earbud in, you listen to some music while you sweep the living area, reaching into the deep corners and underneath the furniture. It’s peaceful, and the nagging fatigue that kept trying to lure into napping was momentarily forgotten. 

The sun was beginning to set when the elevator dinged, just loud enough to draw your attention from where you were reaching as far as you can underneath the huge coffee table. The soft rug presses into the side of your face as you reach for what looks like a crumpled can. 

“Y/N?” Your name makes you pause in your pursuit of that can and sit up onto your knees. 

Zayne is wearing his beige coat and you can see the edge of his lab coat and his medical badge peeking out from underneath it. 

He has white bags in one hand and the scent of savory takeout quickly fills the room.

“Hey!” You greet cheerily, relieved to see a familiar face, “I was just tidying up. There’s a can stuck underneath that I can’t reach.”

You return to your quest and hear Zayne’s heavy sigh.

“You said you would take a day.” He mumbles as he walks over to the kitchen and places the food onto the counter. 

“And I got bored,” You reply, speaking louder so that he can hear with your voice muffled. 

“Come on,” You hear him call, his smooth voice cool but not demanding. 

Your fingertips graze the can once, but only manages to push it further away. Zayne says something else, but you don’t hear him. 

A touch at your lower back makes you shiver. Cold fingertips grazing the hem of your shirt. Innocently trying to draw your attention but unknowingly edging into the slightly exposed skin of your lower back. 

You inhale sharply and sit up, finding Zayne standing over you with a stern look in his eyes.

“I brought food.” He tells you like he didn’t just strum a chord in your spine. “Have you eaten since lunch?”

You recall the sorry state of his fridge and shake your head. Standing, you fix your shirt and place your hands on your hips, “You’re not exactly stocked up. Did the other housekeepers do the shopping?”

Zayne’s jaw ticks and he nods, “Yes. I was thinking about the arrangement while I was working and I think we should set some rules.”

You laugh as you take a seat at one of the barstools, “Oh trust me, I got the rundown from one of your roommates on some of the rules.” 

Zayne blinks in surprise, “Who?”

“Rafayel.” You reply, “I have to be honest Zayne, I have no idea how he expects me to clean the studio if I can’t touch anything.”

“He’s…particular about his work.” Zayne says as he begins to unpack the takeup. More than a dozen little boxes laid out and fives sets of disposable silverware set next to it.  “I’ll talk to him.”

Zayne examines each box and then finds one he seems to be looking for, sitting it front of you and offering a set of utensils. You take the white box and open it, surprised to see one of your favorite takeout dishes. Steaming hot and delicious. 

“Thank you.” You say with a bright smile, “Should we wait for the others or do you eat alone?”

“Today we’ll eat alone.” Zayne says as he finds his own box. “You’ll see them more often in the evening. Dinner is sometimes a communal affair.”

You can’t help but feel affectionate at the idea, but then bitter resentment tries to swallow you whole. You miss family dinners. Sitting together over something homemade and chatting until the food gets cold. 

Why did Zayne get that? Why did everyone else get that except for you?

You squash that nasty train of thought, and force a smile, “That sounds nice.”

Zayne sheds his coat and scarf and sits down next to you. From within he coat he retrieved a few papers and sets them on the counter before tossing the coat onto the chair next to him. 

“This is the contract we signed with the last housekeeper,” He explained, sliding one of the papers to you. “It lays out working days, which rooms to clean. Grocery budget and other things. But–” He pauses and slides the other paper to you, “Since you’re not represented by an agency, I wanted to make sure you were given proper compensation.”

You don’t answer with a mouth full of food and instead examine the difference between the contracts. The old one seems pretty standard. Three days a week and what’s to be cleaned each day. Which day to order groceries and the budget allotted for it. It listed who and when inspection of work would be done, and how much would be paid a week for the work. 

The new one was longer. It stated the same expectations but listed only two days working. The areas to be cleaned was shorter and the grocery budget higher. The inspections would be done only once a month and the weekly pay twice as much as the last.

“Zayne,” You tone is chastising, “This is ridiculous.”

“Is it not enough?” He says quickly, pulling the revised contract from your hands and examining it for typos. “We can negotiate, of course.”

“You barely have me doing anything with that contract. And where’s the part where I pay you back?” You argue, stabbing your fork into your partially eaten takeout, “And the pay should be cut because you’re also housing me. That’s more on your utility bill, my pay should be cut to cover it.”

Zayne’s brow crease and his lips purse– eyes glaring at the contract.

“Plus I’ll never be able to keep this place clean if I only work two days a week.” You sit up, taking on as authoritative a tone as you can, “I should be working six days if I’m living here. Sundays off. I can keep all the common spaces clean and do the shopping on Saturdays. You should inspect everything at least twice a week to make sure I’m keeping standards, and the pay should reflect the median wage for this position minus lodgings.”

Zayne’s shoulders deflate, “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I am not.” You argue petulantly, “I’m being practical. Don’t go easy on me, Zayne. I did this to myself.”

HE closes his eyes, takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose, “Fine. Alright.” From his shirt pocket he pulls out a pen and hands it to you. “Write down what you think is reasonable, and we’ll go from there.”

You smile and take the pen, “Thank you Zayne.”

“You punishing yourself unnecessarily, but if you insist on it…” Zayne turned back to his food and began to pick at it. Suddenly remembering something he turns back to you, “There should be stipulations for if you wish to cease the contract or if circumstances change.”

You nod in agreement, “Sure. We can put like.” Your voice drifts off as you turn the page over and find the open space at the bottom, “If I end the contract, I will owe…”

“No, not that.” Zayne sighs, “Put that you are allowed to terminate the contract for any reason, be it professional or personal with no repercussions– financial or otherwise.”

“That lenient.” You mumble as you quickly pen it in. “Would you put that in for some other housekeeper?”

“You aren’t some other housekeeper.” 

The warmth in his voice rivals the richness of the hot chocolate you’d drank yesterday. Thick and decadent, but quiet like he was reluctant to reveal such a precious secret. 

You glance at him and continue to alter the contract until you're satisfied. Zayne argues with the number you write down for your wage, and eventually you find something neither of you are happy with but can live with. A tenuous compromise. 

You sign the bottom and Zayne does the same. 

The food tastes a little bit better now that that’s settled. 

The elevator dings and footsteps tap in approach. You and Zayne turn and you blink in surprise. You recognize his face, and you nearly squeak as he freezes– halfway between the foyer and the kitchen.

“Xavier,” Zayne greets the soft blond man with a gentle nod, “This is Y/N, she’s going to be staying here for the foreseeable future.”

Xavier clears his throat and approaches. His white hunter’s uniform dirt along the edges and some soot covers his right shoulder. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” You greet with a smile, jumping down from the barstool and offering your hand, “Though, have we met before? Your face is familiar.”

You see the muscles in Xavier’s neck work as he swallows and his gloved hand takes yours in a chaste hold, squeezing once without shaking before letting you go. His sapphire eyes don’t linger on your face, and you feel suddenly self-conscious.

“Ah, perhaps we’ve crossed paths at the Hunter’s association.” Xavier’s voice is like soft goosefeather down. The most plush and cushioned tone that settles like a luxurious fur coat on your shoulders. You fight the shiver that rises up your spine at the sound of it, and your mind supplies for sensations of deja vu. 

“Right. Probably.” You reply, returning to your barstool and your food. 

Xavier rounds the side of the counter and goes to the fridge, pulling out the orange juice and pouring himself a glass.

Zayne leans over the counter to find three different boxes and sets them aside, “I got your usual order.”

Xavier nods and a small smile appears on his face, “Thanks. I’m going to shower before eating.”

Zayne just nods, but as Xavier passes by there this look. A sort of exchange of information in a language you don’t understand. Some subliminal nod between gentlemen or perhaps some new greeting? 

You finish your meal and continue chatting amicably with Zayne until Xavier returns. He looks like he was carved from powdered sugar and marble, the softness of his light colored all the more striking without soot to darken them. 

“Y/N is going to be the housekeeper.” Zayne informs the blond as he sits on the other side of you. 

Xavier looks at Zayne like he’s insane, brow furrowed and upper lift slightly lifted. “Seriously?”

Your heart sinks like a stone in your chest. 

“Rafayel has already met her, and made his…rules clear.” Zayne says, “Did you have anything to add?”

The bitterness in Xavier’s expression faded after a moment and he turned his attention to his food, “Not really.”

You lick your lips and try to find something amicable to say, “I’ll try my best to stay out of your way. Rafayel let me know to be careful with his studio, did you have anything I should be careful with?”

Xavier slurped at some noodles and kept his eyes down, “I have books in my room. Don’t move them.”

You nod a few times, appeased that he, at the very least is speaking to you, “Alright. I can do that.”

Zayne hummed from your left and nudged you softly with his knee.

“Oh,” You remark as your brain returns to you, “I was going to ask if you wanted me to cook too?”

“You want to cook?” Xavier’s voice drawls from your right.

“If you’d like me to,” You reply, “I’m no five-star chef but I enjoy cooking. And I have a sneaky suspicion you guys eat too much takeout.”

“That’s not ne-” Zayne’s sentence stops at the look you shoot at him. A stern glare that dares him to try and coddle you again. He exhales in defeat, “A few times a week couldn’t hurt.”

You finish your meal and go to clean up your food while the other two continue to eat. Deciding to tackle the dishes while they chat, you go to the sink and search for a sponge. You find a dish brush and soap underneath the sink and get to work. It’s not hard with the dishwasher unused and empty to your right so you fill it. 

Zayne finishes his food and sets it aside and returns to the contract, reading it over when the elevator dings again. You hardly hear it with the sound of the running water in front of you, but you do notice the change in the room.

You look up in time to see a statue of a man enter the room– his white silver hair fluffy but sharp. Dark black and burgundy makes up the entirety of his look, with a well cut suit jacket hanging from his shoulders. 

“You’re back early.” Xavier notes with a harsh bite to his tone. 

Rafayel was intimidating like a shark in the water. Something that can swim faster and stronger than you can. Xavier was intimidating like space. Void of air and warmth. 

This man was intimidating like a beast of lore was. Something beyond the comprehension of man, and only formed from imaginations and nightmares. 

“Disappointed?” The man mused, thick like fine wine and tinged with the rumbling of a growl. His expensive leather oxfords tapped against the wood floor as he strutted over to the kitchen counter, perusing the takeout for his. As he passes by Zayne, he reaches out, placing his wide hand at the back of Zayne’s neck and squeezing in greeting. 

Stunned by that, you turned off the water and began to dry your hands, unknowingly drawing his attention. Like a predator hearing a twig snap in the forest, his eyes snap to you and a small smirk quirks his lips.

“What’s this?” He asks, clearly not speaking to you. 

“This is Y/N.” Zayne explains once again, “She’s going to be the new housekeeper.”

“ Oh,” The man croons, walking over around the island with the sink to tower over you, “A pleasure to meet you. The name’s Sylus.”

“N-nice to meet you,” You silently curse your stuttering voice, “Sylus.”

He hums when you say his name, backing off out of your space and grabbing his takeout. As quickly as he’d come, he’s walking away, “I’ll be downstairs.”

As his presence grows further away, you feel the ability to breathe return to you. Your face is red and your heart is racing, and what for? Why did he, of all of them, make you feel like you were suddenly game for a hunt?

“That’s the last of them, yeah?” You ask Zayne after a moment.

Zayne chuckles and nods, “Yeah, that’s it.”

Later, Zayne explains that Rafayel often gets caught up in a creative zone and doesn’t come down to eat until much later. Xavier gives Zayne a quiet thanks for the food before leaving, and Zayne makes sure you’re settled before he excuses himself for bed. 

You linger in the kitchen for a moment, cleaning up the remnants of the take out. Zayne’s portion is already gone, the meticulous doctor already cleaning up after himself. Xavier only left behind a few napkins in his wake, which was better than the full mess you expected him to leave you with. 

First impression? Rafayel would likely prod you and push you until you broke. Xavier likely didn’t like you and would avoid you as much as he could. Zayne was…Zayne. He’d be busy at the hospital most of the time, but would likely still find time for you. Sylus was scary and lived on the bottom floor like a goblin, which seemed fitting. Hopefully your run ins with him were minimal. 

The boxes of Rafayel’s order remained on the counter and before you scaled the stairs to head to bed you picked them up. Maybe a peace offering?

You head back to his studio and knock before entering. A muffled response calls back and you enter, finding him laying on the long couch with a sketchbook over his face. 

Lingering by the door, you hold the two boxes of food close to you, hoping to retain their heat. “I brought your food up. I thought you might like to eat here?”

Rafayel lifts the sketchbook and peeks at you, seeming to forget you existed. He sighs and waves his hand for you to approach. You cross the room and find a small portion of the side table to place the food on.

“It’s late and I’m heading to bed.” You tell him, “It was nice to meet you.”

You turn and he doesn’t stop you, letting you leave the room as quickly as you’d come.  You were eager to get started, though this certainly wasn’t the job you’d pick for yourself, you weren’t about to slack off. 

You’d been in such a daze since– For a while. Nothing really felt real anymore. Nothing felt important. Maybe this peculiar circumstance was just bizarre enough to knock some sense back into you. As you readied for bed, setting up the few photo frames on the bedside tables, you hoped so. 

After you left, Rafayel sighed. Eyes stuck on the little takeout boxes you’d brought him. Glaring at them like they were messenger birds bringing news of his incoming doom. 

It couldn’t be. Could it? No. No that was…. Rafayel huffed and tossed his sketchbook aside. His stomach was turning in knots and his skin felt hot. 

A part of him wanted to go to the others, confirming the suspicions curling around his spine like a choking boa. If he noticed it, then the others did too. Maybe not Zayne…poor guy, but certainly Sylus. And most definitely Xavier. 

But it felt too good to be true, and so Rafayel didn’t trust it. A sweet treat hanging from a thread, bait at the end of a silver hook meant to trick him and lay him out for slaughter. 

It didn’t matter who you looked like. What you felt like. What you smelled like… He’d deny the messages his senses were telling him to preserve his sanity. To preserve the tenuous peace and happiness he’d found here. He wouldn’t voice aloud his suspicions in case he was wrong and get everyone’s hopes up for nothing.

[ann-non]

SVT reactions on finding out their partner reading smut

Author’s note : it truly has been a while since I posted anything at all.. I honestly have been passively using tumblr. I hadn't been motivated much to write even though I have ideas in my head. I wish I can write more, but for now I'm just gonna focus on my life and post on rare occasions like this when I feel like it. This one is just a sudden thought because some ppl at work are making this book club but they’re sharing all these high literature books. Like no hate, it just requires more brain power for me to read, so I don’t read them as often and I gravitate more to those easy to read spicy romantasies if you catch my drift. But anyway, they don’t need to know what I read in my free time so I just pretend I didn’t see anything lol But yea, it got me thinking about how SVT members would react when they found out the kind of literary corn their partner is reading hihihihihi Obviously, this is just a work of fiction, in no way I know how they would actually react and I wrote this solely for entertainment purposes. Please enjoy and lemme know what you think!

Rating : not sure how to rate this. I guess, there are some innuendos, but nothing explicit.

S.Coups

He walks into the room, sees you quickly shut your book, and immediately gets suspicious. "What are you reading?" He reaches for it, but you hold it tight. Now he has to know. When he finally peeks at a passage, his whole face goes red. He stammers, "I—uh—I didn’t see anything!" and power walks out like he’s on a mission. Later that night, he awkwardly asks, "So… Can I borrow it when you’re done?”

He immediately notices the playful glint in your eyes and before you could say anything, he quickly added, “It’s nothing, I’m just curious!”

Jeonghan

This man is a menace, he’ll have a field day. He would say things so casually just to watch you implode and be like “Aha~ so that’s what you like~” Before you can react, he snatches the book and starts reading out loud in the most dramatic voice possible. "‘His hands traced down her—’ Oh? Interesting." If you try to take it back, he holds it above your head and laughs. Later, he leans in, whispers with that shit eating smirk of his, "I should start using your books as references, huh?" and leaves you completely speechless. And the worst (best) part? He’d bring it up at random times too, like when you're least expecting it. "Hey, which chapter was your favorite? Asking for research purposes." 💀

Joshua

Bro is blushing when he reads what you were reading. He doesn’t expect that kind of scene when he joins you in bed and then reads along with you out of boredom. "My goodness… Is this what you love to read?" You, unaware that he was reading behind your shoulders all along, quickly closed your book as blush crept all over your face. "I—uh—I didn’t mean to intrude!" He hugged you and encouraged you to keep reading as he pulled you closer. But later, as he was on his phone with one hand while the other wrapped around you, he suddenly muttered, "So… do you, um, read those often?" and instantly regrets asking. He’s too polite to tease, but his brain is racing trying to process it.

Jun

Your book was laying on the table unattended as you were busy with your phone. Jun slowly picks it up, reads a line, and gives you a knowing smirk. "Ah… so this is what you like?" He savors your embarrassment. "You should’ve just told me~" Then, for the rest of the day, he randomly brings it up— "Would you like me to act out a scene for you?" Like he would say it completely seriously with that innocent but dangerous glint in his eyes. He’d lean in, smirk, and be like, "You know… I’m pretty flexible. We could test it out, purely for science." And then just grin knowingly when you start blushing.

Hoshi

He gasps so loudly you think something is wrong. "BABY. WHAT IS THIS?!" He dramatically grabs his chest like he’s about to faint. But then he gets curious. "Wait… lemme see that." Next thing you know, he makes it a whole event. He’d flop down next to you, stretch dramatically, and be like, "Okay, hear me out—I could definitely do this." Then he’d actually start attempting the position in the middle of the room, while you’re just sitting there face palming at his antics, "Babe… please—" 

Wonwoo

Wonwoo would glance at your book, read a few lines, and then give you that poker face of his. Then, with the straightest face, he’d say, "Is the writing good, or do you just read it for the plot?" You stammer, and he smirks, "I should borrow it next. Expand my literary horizons." He won’t tease you outright, but you’ll catch him randomly quoting suggestive lines just to see your reaction. "Ah, so this is what you meant by 'intense character development'? 😏" 

Woozi

He catches a glimpse of your book and immediately looks away. Ears red. He pretends he didn’t see anything, but later, he can’t help but ask, "So, uh… that book. What is it about?" If you try to explain, he’ll awkwardly nod and mumble, "Yeah. Okay. Got it." But if you tease him, "Do you want to read it with me?" he will malfunction on the spot. "Wh—NO. I mean—why would I—" and then he’ll be avoiding eye contact for the rest of the week. Dude is traumatized lmao

DK

He sees the book, skims a sentence, and literally jumps back like he got electrocuted. "WAIT—IS THIS—?!?!" His face is pure shock. "BABE, I THOUGHT YOU WERE INNOCENT!" He covers his eyes like he just walked in on something scandalous. But later, when you’re reading again, he peeks over your shoulder and whispers, "…What’s happening now?" He’d stare at the page, tilt his head, then look at you like, "Wait… is that physically possible? Are human spines supposed to bend that way?" Then he’d probably try to reenact the pose just to prove his point, and now you’re sitting there watching your boyfriend nearly sprain his back because of a book. He’d pause, look at you with wide eyes, and say, "Okay but… HOW?! Like, WHERE are their legs at this point??" Then he’d proceed to read the entire passage out loud just to make it sound even more ridiculous, laughing so hard he can’t breathe, but then he keeps reading because "Now I need to know how it ends." 

Mingyu

He’d walk in, glance over your shoulder, and freeze. Then, after a solid three seconds of silence, he’d gasp so loud and grab his chest dramatically like he’s in a K-drama. "WAIT. HOLD ON. A REVERSE HAREM?? AM I NOT ENOUGH FOR YOU??"

He’d literally act heartbroken, pacing around the room, muttering things like:

"I give you all my love, all my attention, and THIS is how you repay me?!"

"So what, you want four more guys? Is this why you’ve been reading so much lately?"

"IS IT BECAUSE I CAN’T MULTIPLY?!" 

And if you try to explain, he’s not hearing it. He’s already on his phone googling “how to kagebunshin no jutsu” while fake-sniffling in the corner. Bro is dramatic AF, but then he’s also the type to proceed to borrow the book (for research purposes he said), and end up getting way too into it. He’d come back blushing and stuttering like, "Sooooo I read it… and uh… I have some thoughts?? 😳"

The8

He’d glance at the book, shrug, and say, "Cool, do you like it?" before going back to whatever he was doing. But if you explain the plot, he might actually get curious and ask more questions in a totally nonchalant way. And when you least expected he would be like, "Hmm, it actually sounds kinda interesting… Can I read it after you?" but completely unbothered, like he’s asking for a normal book. He'd probably even come back after reading the book like, "Honestly, the plot wasn’t bad. The world building was solid. 4,3 stars out of 5"

He would even be willing to have an open discussion about the book and dissect it if you wish to. BUT!! He'd still take his chance to tease you by randomly dropping spicy one-liners just to fluster you. "I see why you liked chapter 12. 😏" 

Seungkwan

The moment Seungkwan catches you reading a spicy book, he already knows something is up. You’re too focused, flipping pages way too fast, and your expressions keep shifting between wide eyes and bitten lips. His senses are tingling. So, of course, he just has to know.

"EXCUSE ME—WHAT ARE YOU READING?!" He snatches the book, skims a paragraph, and squeals. "OH MY— SWEETIE, THIS IS FILTHY!"

But then, it happens, the performance of his life aka reading it out loud dramatically while also reacting in real time.

“He traced his fingers down her—OH MY GOD, WHY IS IT STARTING LIKE THIS?!” 

"His breath was hot against her ear as he whispered—" he pauses to look at you, scandalized. Cue his signature BOMBASTIC side eyes. "WHAT KIND OF LITERATURE IS THIS?!"

"She gasped as she felt his— NOPE. NOPE. NOT IN MY HOUSE."

But it doesn’t stop there. Oh no—he’s acting out the dialogue like he’s in a full-blown historical drama.

One moment, he’s dramatically dropping his voice to play the male lead, "You don’t know how long I’ve wanted you, my love." 

Then, without missing a beat, he switches to a high-pitched, breathless tone to play the female lead. "B-but what if someone hears us?!" 

He keeps reading, while still adding his own commentaries.

"Excuse me, WHERE are their hands right now???"

"Are they in a library? A CHURCH?! Oh, these people are going straight to JAIL."

"How is she still standing after that? I would’ve collapsed three pages ago."

He gasps, clutches his chest, and falls to the floor like he’s been fatally wounded by the sheer audacity of the scene. Meanwhile, you are absolutely DONE. You’re trying to snatch the book away, but he’s holding it above his head like he’s holding the last piece of food at a buffet.

 "OH NO, I NEED TO KNOW HOW THIS ENDS."

And yes, he will never let you live this down. He will bring it up at the worst possible moment. "Hey guys, did I tell you about the time I caught y/n reading a BOOK OF SIN?"

Vernon

He walks in, glances at the book, and just goes, "Oh, cool." That’s it. No reaction. No judgment. Just vibes. Later, when you're talking about books, he casually asks, "So is that one of your favorites?" You choke on your drink, and he just nods, "Nice." The next time you’re reading, he randomly goes, "Oh, this one is a classic  slow burn enemies to lovers trope. Good tension." You looked at him in shock at the realization that your boyfriend had read the book before and he just looked back at you with his usual laid back expression. “What? Did I say anything weird?”

Dino

He stares at the book, then at you, then back at the book. "Oh. Um. Cool." But five minutes later, he suddenly blurts, "But WHY do you read that?!" He’s so confused, but he tries to act mature about it. However, if you tease him, "Do you want to read it with me?" he IMMEDIATELY runs away, only to come back literally a minute later. He’s a little hesitant, but curiosity wins. He’d be like, "Wait… is that what people are reading these days?" and next thing you know, he’s HOOKED.

End note : obviously, I got carried away with Seungkwan’s. 🤣

[scribbly-artist]

Years Worth of Karma

Summary: Jayce likes to push Caitlyn’s buttons just to annoy her. He’s been doing this for years now. But what happens when the tables turn?

Author’s Notes: Man I wish we got more Jayce and Caitlyn interactions :( S2 was severely lacking in that department. Like others, I agree that they’re like siblings, Jayce being the annoying older brother. So I wrote a little fic about it. :P

Words: ~1,000 | AO3 Link

“You sure you can carry all that?” Jayce had called to Caitlyn who was behind him.

Caitlyn was lugging a big, heavy box filled to the brim with miscellaneous knickknacks and items. The contents of the box rattled and clanged with each step Caitlyn took. She paused for a moment as she adjusted her grip, pushing the box up with her knee.

“I’ve got strong arms. It’s fine.” Cait replied, walking through the open lab door.

Caitlyn was helping Jayce move a couple of boxes worth of items that he bought from his last trip in the Undercity. It was a bunch of stuff she couldn’t even recognise, but he said this was all for the benefit of his Hextech research. He needed it all in the lab so Jayce and Viktor could make use of it.

Jayce walked over to a nearby bench to dump the items he was carrying, turning to look at Caitlyn who was still a fair distance away, struggling with the box. “Yeah, but have you seen my arms? I could probably carry three of those.” He paced over to her and grabbed the box, putting it down with the numerous other items.

“I’m not a piece of glass, I can hold my own, thank you very much.” Caitlyn replied as she strolled out of the lab to grab another box, carting it through the doorway. This one was a lot heavier than the last, her arms were shaking a bit at its weight.

“I know that. But c’mon, clearly that’s too heavy for you,” Jayce pointed out, seeing her struggling. He strolled over to her, holding out his hands. “Hand it over, sprout.”

She held the box closer to her chest, keeping it in her grasp. “I’ve got it.”

“You don’t have to be so stubborn, you know.” He shook his head with a laugh. Then, to mess with her, he started poking her in the side. “You’ll drop it at this rate.”

“Jahahayce— no!” She shook her head, tightening her grip on the box. This just egged him on more. He started prodding his fingers wherever he could reach with tickly pokes and a smug grin on his face. “I’m nohohot against dropping thihihis box rihihight on your foot!!” She warned.

“You can’t do that — you might break everything in there,” he really started to dig in, using his knuckles to massage and press into her ribs. Caitlyn threw her head back and laughed, her arms shaking and struggling to hold the box. “Don’t waste your parent’s money no— OWW!”

Caitlyn let go of the box, and it fell exactly where she warned Jayce it would: right on his foot. Jayce winced in pain, but didn’t have a second to react to Caitlyn’s sudden retaliation.

Caitlyn quickly rounded Jayce and, due to his lack of focus on her, grabbed his arm and twisted it behind him. He let out another pained noise and was tackled to the ground face down with ease. Once she had him where she wanted him, she dug her fingers straight into his side.

“Waitwaitwait CAIT— HAHAHA!” Loud laughter burst from Jayce’s mouth, caught off guard from all of this. He had reduced Cait to a giggling mess very often in the past and she never fought back. He didn’t think she had the strength to.

Clearly, he thought wrong.

And he was regretting the years of built up tickle karma he had not received until this very moment.

“This is what happens when you don’t listen,” Cait let out a laugh of her own, squeezing Jayce’s ribs with renewed vigor, making the other wheeze and then explode with more booming laughter. “You should have acknowledged my warning.”

“I dihihidn’t think— AHAHA— think thihihis would happen—!!” Jayce managed to gasp out between laughs. His other arm was free, but it was hitting against the floor, as were his legs. Any strength he had was being sapped from him. “Thihihis isn’t fahahaHAIR!”

She let out another laugh at his remark. “Fair? I’ve had to endure you pushing my buttons and tickling me whenever you were bored for years now,” her fingers scurried up and down Jayce’s sides and ribs, making him snort. “I think this is more than fair.”

Jayce clearly couldn’t take what he dishes out.

“ALRIHIHIGHT—!!” Jayce’s whole body was shaking, racked with laughter. He slapped his palm on the floor a few times. “I gihihive— I GIVE!”

As soon as his tickly plea left his mouth, Caitlyn stopped. She rose back up to her feet, a satisfied smile on her face. Jayce let out a few coughs and wheezes and rolled over, looking up at her. 

“Remind me not to mess with you again,” his hand gripped his chest, his chest visibly rising and falling as he filled his lungs back up with air. “I one hundred percent deserved that, heh.” He rose to his feet, Cait nodded in response.

“Serves you right after all the times you’ve tickled me. Karma found its way back to you.” She picked up the box that she dropped and inspected the contents — nothing seemed to be broken. She started to walk off with it, planning to put it with the rest of the boxes.

“How did you even learn to do that?” Jayce asked, referring to her pinning him to the ground. “I’m a big guy, so I didn’t even think anyone could do that, let alone you of all people.” Jayce began to follow her.

“My parents enrolled me in self defence classes. Comes in handy, don’t you think?” She laughed.

Jayce has now learned to not mess with Caitlyn… well, he still can. He’ll just have to be cautious and remember that Cait can most definitely hold her own and fight back.

She’s one dangerous girl.

[kenzies-love-stories]

Oh COME ON Bella! pt2 rewrite (Felix Volturi X Swan Fem Reader)

A/N: Well, hello it's been too long, I'm going to be completely honest with you guys I have not been making my writing a priority as I should be. I have been learning how to balance my time working full time at a cooperation job is hard, I feel like I never have time for myself but i am learning how to make the time. I don't know how many people are still invested but here the rewrite for part 2.~Kenzie

pairing: Felix volturi X fem Swan reader

Type/ warnings: M for mature

Word count:3,355

Date posted: January 30 2025

Six long tortuous months have gone and passed since I was dragged to Volterra Italy where I met him, Felix, the man who has so effortlessly caught my attention. He feels so close yet so far out of my reach. The only reasons I know that he is actually real is because of the leather book which is on the nightstand by my bed as well as the memory that plays on repeat every night while I sleep.

I find myself more often than not longing for the feeling of comfort that his cold embrace manages to bring to my warm body. I have yet to hear from him but he promised, so I am not going to lose hope so easily. Though I do miss him every day even though I don’t know him very well at all. I am guessing it is the bond.

Today Jasper has dragged Bella and I to the Cullens house after school to work on their Spanish project that is due the following week while I sit on the couch next to Rosealie, she is probably my favorite Cullen as she is unapologetically honest with me. Which I very much appreciate as everyone else isn’t as straight forward as Rosalie.

I see an angry Edward storm into the room with a panicked Alice hot on his heels, “Edward you don’t have the right to do this, it’s not your place. If you follow through with this it is not going to end well for anybody involved.” Alice sped infront of Edward to stop him.

“I am doing this to protect her.” He seethes looking down at alice callously

“Since when have you ever cared about her safety. Trust me Eds you are going to do more harm than good.” Alice grabs the envelope out of his hands as this comment shocks Edward. "STAY OUT OF IT!" she adds loudly.

“Y/n/n this came in the mail for you from a very special someone.” Alice says and passes me the envelope, while wiggling her eyebrows at me playfully.

“Thank you!” I exclaim with a big smile taking it from her hand gently. I let out a barely audible giggle as I run my fingers over the fancy cursive writing that adores the front that reads y/n Swan with the Cullens address. I gently turn it around and admire the red volturi wax seal. After a second I pull open the wax seal then i pull out the parchment and allow my eyes to run over the words.

 ‘To my dearest little dove, I am happy to inform you that I finally managed to get my hands on a phone, that I have yet to accidently break. It took me longer than expected as I kept on crushing them on accident. I put my number at the bottom. Don't tell anyone about this but Aro is planning on sending us to Seattle for a mission soon. I can't say when but afterwards I’ll sneak away to come and see you. it shouldn't be too difficult to do. With much love Felix aka your giant.’ 

With a smile I feel the envelope is still slightly heavy, with curiosity I look in the envelope. I see a very dainty looking necklace. I gingerly lift it out and into my hand, it is a small yet perfect diamond. ‘A diamond for you to sparkle in the sunlight as I do.’  I let out a slight gasp after I read the note, I very carefully put the necklace on. Once it falls into place my chest swells with love and pride.

I pull out my phone and program his number under the name 'Gental Giant'. I send him a picture of me with the necklace on as well as a message ‘it’s gorgeous Fe, I love it very much Thank you.’

A few hours later on at home I hear my phone ping. I check it with a grin. It is a message from Felix, ‘I am glad you love it, I'll come find you next week to visit.’ i read while smiling wide

With a blush that he can’t see I type out ‘can’t wait giant’

I lay down for the evening as i have school in the morning.

I am soon lulled in to a deep slumber dreaming of the tall giant that has started to plague my every dream...in the best way possible of course. In this particular dream I can see him and I cuddled up on the same couch that is in his room in the corner by the fireplace as he reads out loud to me. One of his big cold hands turns the page while the other is placed on my knee, gently resting there covering it completely.

*One week passes by*

The day after I received the letter from Felix, I worked on getting him one in the mail in return. I decided to make him a bracelet out of some black cord, as well as write him a letter in return. I made sure that it got in the mail the same day. I went ahead and put two extra stamps on the envelope even though I don’t think it makes all the difference. I do hope that he got it and that it didn’t get lost in the mail on the way to Volterra. I find myself absent mindedly studying for my upcoming history test.

I am situated in the living room with music playing softly in the background. My therapy has been up for some time now and I have been doing much better overall. It was finally deemed safe for me to be by myself, So I am home by myself. Bella is either at the Cullens or with Jake at Emily’s house. Whist Charlie is at Billy Blacks watching the late-night baseball game. I am brought out of my deep trance by a crash and cursing from my room upstairs. Quietly and full of nerves with my heart racing I grab my pepper spray tiptoeing my way up the stairs avoiding the creaky stair boards. I silently enter my room, heart beating out of my chest, my finger on the trigger of my pepper spray ready to fire. When I see a very much so familiar giant that I have been missing, my body starts to relax.

Throwing my pepper spray somewhere off to the side, I excitedly exclaim, “Felix! Please tell me you are really here in front of me!”

“Yes, dove it is really me.” He reassures me and pulls me into his cold yet very comforting embrace, “Oh how I missed you.” he slightly breaths in my scent as I nuzzle my face into his strong cold chest.

“I missed you to Fe so much. I have a question; so I am in the middle of studying, would you mind helping me study for my history test please?” I ask slightly pulling myself from his embrace to get a good look at his perfect face.

“What time period Kiddo?” he jests as I lead him down the stairs by his hand.

“Kiddo really!?!” I exclaim "It is the 16th Century" I reply handing him my notes and textbook.

He asks me a random question and I answer confidently as I know it is the right answer. I see him furrow his eyebrows, “Dove I'm sorry but that’s not right at all.”

“Yes, it is Fe, it is in the textbook.” I state the obvious.

“Is that really what they wrote! That is totally not how this happened I was there.” He laughs a bit in shock

“Well, that is what they are teaching me. Glad to see that they are lying” I state and grab the textbook out of his outstretched hand, I freeze when I look down at his wrist.

I grab his and gently pull it towards me running my thumb across this cord with adoration, “you’re wearing it.”

“of course, Dove, I love it; I have not taken it off since I got it and I don’t plan to anytime soon.” he responds softly

“Thank you! I only take my necklace off when I sleep.” I state with a small smile.

“I’m glad to hear that.” He smiles "So what do we want to do now?" he asks looking at me.

"Hmm We can watch..." I am cut off by another body speeding down the stairs halting in front of us. “Fe we got to go now.”

I start to panic when I notice it is just Demetri his friend and fellow guard.

“Okay Dem I will be right out.” Felix states defeated as our time is cut short, yet again.

“Oh, and nice to see you again y/n,” Demetri smiles at me.

“Nice to see you too Demetri.” I smile politely back at him, a little sad my mate has to go so soon.

“Alright My Love sadly I got to go. I promise I will message you as soon as I can.” he says pulling me up into a hug he kisses my forehead as he starts to pull away, I squeeze him tighter to my chest, my face in his neck by his ear, “Stay safe please Felix, I need you around.” I softly plea into his ear. He puts me down and we walk upstairs to my room.

“I’ll do my best,” I hear him say as I watch him disappear from in front of me and out of my window.

I sigh with a newfound heartache deep in my chest, it feels like a hole is there. I sniffle as I walk downstairs to collect my things, I am done studying for the night. I am too upset to retain any information tonight anyway. It was good to see him, and I am happy that I got to spend time with him even for a short bit.

I pause when I see a familiar black cloak, slightly gasping I gingerly reach out and bring it to my chest, hugging it tightly. I find myself breathing in his scent, it smells a bit like cedar and is slightly musky with a very small hint of citrus. This oddly brings me more comfort than anything with lavender ever could or ever would again. Felix has ruined lavender for me and I am very okay with it. I gather my study supplies and pack them up into my backpack for easy transport. I grab the cloak and I rush back to my bedroom.

I put the cloak on my bed while I put my school bag aside for the school day tomorrow. I then take off my shoes and quickly get into pajamas. Soon enough I lay down on my side and bring the cloak of comfort over one of shoulders, like a blanket. I can freely breath in the comforting scent radiating off the fabric. I allow myself to reach the deep state of relaxation and in minutes I am out for the night. I am not sure if he left it behind on purpose or not but I am glad he did.

I only keep his cloak for two weeks as the scent of him is starting to fade. It still brings me the comfort, but it now smells like me, and I know he needs it back. Another week goes by, and I make sure to send Felix back his cloak that he left here as well as a sweet little letter. I am not sure if it was on purpose or accident. However, I am guilty of waiting until it no longer smelt of him, instead I sent it back smelling like me, I hope it may bring him the same comfort it brought me during our time of separation.

Now I am having trouble sleeping at night without the familiar smell of absolute comfort as well as the weight of his cloak. That brings us to where we are now; in a Seattle Walmart smelling the wax melts and candles with Alice trying to find one that is close enough to invoke the same comforting feeling.

I carefully grab a box of brown wax melts and gently pull open the corner to smell. The strong scent makes my face pucker in disgust, this one, smells strongly of male musk and palo santo. Nothing like my Felix," Nope!" I say and put it back on the shelf. I smell my coffee grounds and continue my search. Alice bounces off to the other side of the isle.

A small box of blue wax melts catches my eye. I read the notes on this one softly to myself, "Cedar and sea salt." I don't think it'll be this one but I grab it and gently pull the corner open to get a small whiff. Closing my eyes I breathe in softly, it's almost right but the sea salt throws it off for me, it makes it kind of smell like a sweaty man.

I am starting to lose hope in my search but while I am here I decided to get a few candles for the house. I grab a fresh linen and a pumpkin spice candle then start off in the direction of Alice.

"Alice I only managed to find sweaty males and fruity deserts." I state in defeat, "do you need anything else while we are here, I give up."

"Just let me check in one spot, there is a clearance pile over by the five dollar movie bin." She states taking off at a human's pace. I head over to the five-dollar movie bin as I have given up. I start to filter through the movies when Alice comes running at a human pace towards me, “Y/n/n what about this one, it is called Illusion, there is cedar, musk, and whatever the mystery smell is.”

"I will give it a try Alice but I have lost hope." I state before she starts to hand me the package.

I gently take the package from Alice and gently pop open the corner feeling somewhat hopeful I bring the package to my nose and gently breathe in. The smell is very strong, but it is close enough to Felix that in a tired haze it would do the trick. Happily nodding at Alice, “Alice this is almost exact. Is there more than one?”

I close the small box and start to make my way through the isle with Alice, “Sadly that is the very last one here but at least now you know which one it is, we can order you more from online."

We walk to the self-checkout as I muse, “you’re right Alice! Thank you very much for helping me I appreciate it, you are such a great friend." I muse while I scan and pay for our items and we exit the store.

“You are more than welcome, Y/n i am happy to help." she smiles as she gets into her car.

“Hey Alice, please don’t mention this to anyone, it is kind of embarrassing.” I look down at my hands that are folded in my lap. "I know Bella would view this as childish and I don't want to be made fun of." I state quietly.

“Of course, Y/n/n you have my word. You should not feel embarrassed about missing Felix though. It is not your fault that you two have to be separated at the moment. It is not forever even though it may feel like it. Believe me when I say this though, Felix is just as affected by this as you are, if not more so.”  Alice states while keeping her golden eyes on the freeway. That is one thing no one tells you about vampires, they love to drive fast as it causes an adrenaline rush, I have learned to grow more comfortable with the speeding.

“You really think so.” I ask in a hopeful tone, not because I want Felix to hurt but it hurts a little less knowing that we are both hurting together.

“I know so y/n/n.” she says with a smile, “Don’t let Edward or Bella try to convince you any different. If he says anything to you about this, tell me okay. I’ll have Emmett and Jasper rough him up for you. He shouldn't have anything to say he just needs to let you be happy.”

I am thinking of my response when Alice beats me to it, "Now enough of the heavy, let's listen to some music." I see her cold dainty hand reach over and turn the volume dial up on the radio.

The rest of the ride is filled with laughter, off key singing, and crazy dancing on the way back to Charlie’s house. When she pulls up out front it is four fifty-eight, I have two whole minutes to spare. “Thank you again Alice, for everything,”

“You are most welcome y/n/n, tell Charlie I said hi,” Alice smiles and pulls me over the center console in to a tight embrace (not too tight though).

“Of course, Drive safe Alice.” I state knowing that she is going to drive recklessly now that I am no longer in the car.

I close the car door and walk inside after I hear her say ‘always' I make my way inside to put away my candles and to burn my wax in my wax wamer that is in my bedroom.

Felix’s POV

I have been back in Volterra for a little over a week now. The sharp pain in my chest has only grown stronger each day that passes without her. I miss my little human, more than I could have ever thought possible. I have tried to distract myself with working extra hours and picking up extra missions but it never works. I come to realize that this distance thing is going to be a lot harder to handle then I first thought. I have somehow misplaced my last cloak between the constant missions. I unlatch my new cloak and place it over the couch in my room. I then exit to hunt down where Demetri is hiding away at.

I see him walking down towards the library with Heidi, fixing my bracelet I speed over to them before they can get too far.

“Hey Fe, Gianna the new girl is looking for you, you have mail.” Dem teasingly states.

With a smile I start to turn away with a smile to make my way to the front desk, “Thank you Dem, I’ll catch up with you in a bit.”

I don’t wait for a reply, I instead speed down the stairs stopping in front of Gianna's desk. “Hey, Gianna Demetri told me that you have mail for me.”

“Yes, from forks.” she states in broken English handing me a box.

“Grazie.” I state and take the box in confusion, I was expecting a letter from y/n.

She nods as I walk off to my room looking at the box, I see the familiar semi messy writing that I have grown to love. With a smile I put the box down on the table and gently open it. There is a note on red paper that is on top of something wrapped in tissue paper. I pick up the note to read it more closely, ‘Fe, I hope this brings you the same comfort it brought me, love little Dove.”

Curiously I put the note down and open the tissue paper, I am hit by the strong scent of my mate, with a smile I pull out, my cloak? I put it on with a laugh, I must have forgotten it at her house that night. Her scent surrounds me and the pain in my chest subsides just a little bit. She must have been wearing it at night as her scent is imprinted in to the fabric. I smile at the image of her cuddled on her bed, her small frame drowning in my cloak. Maybe this won’t be as hard as I first thought, It’s going to suck but it is going to be manageable…for now.

Taglist: @j-u-hs-world @ellatitanium @melinsk1 @trainboom @trashy-panda777 @small-town-wayward-daughter @venusdelaroix

@kezibear143 @smithmallory13 @im-as-mad-as-a-wax-bananna

@sunsetswurve @believinghurts @xcastawayherosx @iloveslasher

@yikeskatz @ssa-holmes @artaxerxesthegreat @jenfox25 @lacychick @smileykiddie08 @xxx-wounded-angel-xxx

[rekaisbored]

“I love you” - an excerpt of my fic The ash of the home, that I started the fire in

“Come on Moons.” Sirius whispers, his eyes meeting Remus’s. As inappropriate as it is, his mind doesn’t fail to remind Remus just how absolutely attracted he is to this beauty of a boy. Even here in his bed, curled up and looking like he’s seconds away from a mental breakdown, he’s the most beautiful person Remus has ever seen. I love you, he thinks. I love you so much I don’t know how to comprehend it. I love you so much, I can’t live without you. I love you so much, I can’t bear the thought of you dying, I love you, please don’t die.

“I love you.” The words come tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop himself. It isn’t the first time he has said it. He doesn’t say it often, not because he doesn’t feel it, but because he’s afraid to it will come over as too much to Sirius, that it will overwhelm him. It is admittedly, an irrational fear, because every time he says those three words, Sirius’s eyes widen slightly in a sweet, adorable way that makes Remus want to kiss him senseless. Maybe it’s because he’s never heard it before, only from James. Or maybe it’s because Remus is the luckiest damn person on this planet.

Sirius smiles, his eyes all enlarged pupils and silver glimmers. “I love you too.” He murmurs softly, as he pats the remaining empty space on his bed. Remus melts into him as he snuggles close, Sirius’s face buried in the crook of his neck, planting a small kiss on a scar that peaks out from under his pajama shirt.

James, always the one to lighten the mood, sniffs theatrically as though stifling a sob, causing them all to huff out a breathless laugh. “Don’t be jealous Prongsie, you know we love you too.” Sirius jokes fondly, throwing an arm around the boy to pull him closer as well.

“Ah, yes, I always forget there are three of us in this relationship.” Remus mocks, to which James gasps.

“Forget! Oh, my heart! You wound me, my sweet love!” He snorts into a pillow, wondering how he managed to befriend these people.

They lay there, their bodies pressed close, like they’re hanging onto each other for dear life, and it feels like they really are. The world dulls around them, this safe haven they have found the only place left to exist, and it’s just the three of them left in the world. Three young boys, not even eighteen or just barely, sharing a bed because they have nothing else left that feels even remotely safe, because they’re afraid of going off to war, of dying, of losing each other, of making it out alive. There is a strange, cruel beauty in it, the way they know all they have is each other, the way they instinctively reach to comfort each other. They’re good at it, because over the years of their friendship they’ve needed it more than any group of teenagers should; and all they’re going to do is need it much-much more in the future.

“I really do love you guys. You’re the best friends I could’ve ever asked for.” James whispers eventually.